THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


'''he  prayer  is  breathed,  that  on  each  path 

Truth's  own  pure  light  may  shine, 
Brightening  the  sombre  hues  of  earth 

With  radiance  divine. 
Onward  and  upward,  clear  and  bright, 

May  it  direct  our  course 
Back  to  the  fountain  head  of  light, 

Its  own  eternal  source. 


SALT  LAKE  CITY: 
PRINTED  BY  J.  C.  GRAHAM  &  Co. 


CQ  MA? 
C  6  H  A  £• 


fJ|N  introducing  this  little  work  to  the  public,  hope  and  fear  alternately 
rf  plead  for  supremacy  ;  in  vain  I  try  to  still  the  tumult ;  the  desire  to 
merit  the  approbation  of  my  readers  is  naturally  uppermost;  hence  comes 
the  fear  of  not  attaining  the  object  which  has  induced  me  to  lay  aside  the 
doubts  that  have  long  prevented  my  attempt  to  gather  up  some  of  the  frag- 
ments, which  at  sundry  times,  and  under  varrous  circumstances  have  been 
written;  and  very  humbly  do  I  ask  that  the  reader  may  exercise  that  "fer- 
vent charity,"  beneath  whose  broad  mantle  my  many  imperfections,  I 
trust,  may  be  covered. 

Most  reluctantly  have  I  entered  upon  the  work ;  long  and  severe  has 
been  the  struggle  between  my  natural  timidity  and  reserve,  and  the  fear  of 
incurring  the  displeasure  of  my  Father  in  Heaven,  by  failing  to  observe  the 
injunction  of  Paul  to  Timothy :  "  Neglect  not  the  gift  that  is  in  thee, 
which  was  given  thee  by  prophecy." 

Weighed  down  by  the  sense  of  accountability,  and  the  consciousness  of 
my  inabilityto  attain  the  standard  of  excellence  necessary  to  enable  me  to 
soar  above  the  shafts  of  criticism,  my  mind  has  suffered  from  misgivings; 
especially  when  standing,  apparently  in  the  presence  of  death,  has  a  sense 
of  my  ingratitude,  in  not  having  placed  in  a  position  to  live,  some  of  the 
most  important  events  of  my  life,  almost  overwhelmed  me. 

The  ability  to  write,  which  at  first  seemed  given  only  to  while  away 
the  hours  of  sickness,  I  found,  to  my  great  joy,  enabled  me  also,  to  encour- 
age and  comfort  others.  Some  of  my  pieces  were  written  when  life  was,  to 
all  human  appearance,  fast  ebbing  out;  hence  the  earnestness  which  charac- 
terizes them.  Confined  for  years  to  the  sick  room,  I  seemingly  lived  in  the 
presence  of  the  searcher  of  hearts  ;  and  with  the  consciousness,  "Thou, 
God,  seeest  me,"  I  dare  only  write  truthfully;  and  feeble  as  I  was,  when 
an  inspiration  was  felt,  I  endeavored  to  commit  it  to  paper  in  the  simplest 
manner,  unadorned  by  the  flowers  of  rhetoric. 

A  number  of  my  pieces  have  been  written  at  the  request  of  friends,  and 
are  thus  of  a  personal  character,  which  some  may  consider  objectionable; 
but  the  motive  prompting  them  has  induced  their  insertion,  as  they  may 
contain  some  sentiment  that  may  help  others  than  those  for  whom  they 
were  originally  penned. 

The  insertion  of  names  may  be  subject  to  censure;  for  which  I  trust  to 
be  pardoned,  as  in  most  instances  they  are  but  grateful  reminders  of  kindly 


614991 

11BBARV 


PREFACE. 


deeds,  for  "  The  righteous  shall  be  had  in  everlasting  remembrance."  In 
this  connection,  I  cannot  omit  to  mention  the  kind  encouragement  and  able 
assistance  rendered  by  Bishop  Charles  D.  Evans  of  Salem,  in  revising  my 
manuscript  for  the  press. 

I  have  endeavored  to  narrate,  in  simple  and  unadorned  language,  the 
experience  of  one  whose  highest  ambition  is  to  be  a  faithful  Latter-day 
Saint,  and  to  tell  the  peace  and  joy  which  a  knowledge  of  the  Gospel  has 
brought  to  one  of  its  humble  followers  ;  and  if  its  perusa'  should  cause  any, 
unacquainted  with  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  seek  to  know  if  these 
things  are  so  ;  or  if  my  experience  should  lead  some  drooping  one  to  take 
fresh  courage  ;  or  be  a  source  of  pleasure  ;  if  the  young  should  learn  from 
it,  that  "  Wisdom's  ways  are  pleasant,  its  paths  peace,"  and  should  be  in- 
duced to  walk  therein,  I  shall  feel  amply  rewarded  ;  although 

I  scarcely  dare  to  think  that  God 

Would  give  to  one  so  small, 
Aught  that  could  cheer  another  on, 

Or  help  His  cause  at  all. 
But  oh  !  I  prize  above  all  else, 

The  power  to  chase  away 
Sorrow  or  pain  from  those  I  meet 

While  trav'ling  life's  highway. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


-<*»>- 


CONTENTS. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


Page 
Chapter  I. — Early  Influences      9 

Chapter  II. — Love  and  Wed- 
lock                  15 

Chapter   III.— The   Light   of 
the  Gospel         ..  ..         21 

Chapter   IV.— My    Native 

Land,  Farewell       ..         ..      28 


^Page 
Chapter  V. — Manna    in    the 

Wilderness         ..  ..  36 

Chapter  VI.— Pioneer   Diffi- 
culties        ..          ..          ..  43 

Chapter  VII.— Miraculous 

Healing         .,         ..         ..  51 

Chapter  VIII.— Conclusion  59 


POEMS. 


Page 

Crossing  the  Atlantic  Ocean  65 

A  Similitude         ..             ..  84 

Contemplations         . .         . .  85 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side      .  83 
Christmas  in  my  Childhood's 

Home          90 

To  a  Tulip          ..              ..  93 

Woman's  Mission             . .  94 

"  Another  Outrage."  •       ..  95 


Page 
A  True  Story        :..  ..         96 

Co-operation  . .  . .  97 

To  Bishop  Albert  K.  Thurber  99 

Our  Native  Flowers  .  101 
To  the  Relief  Society  of 

Spanish  Fork  . .  . .  102 
Comments  on  Acts,  3rd 

Chapter,  6th  verse  . .  104 

Utah  105 


• 

8 

CONTENTS. 

] 

T_  x*_ 

106 
108 

Beautiful  Mountain  Home 
To  Mrs.  Mary  Isaacs 

Page 
133 

134 

The  Two  Deacons 

A  Fragment 

109 

Lead  Me  to  the  Rock 

135 

Provo  Woolen  Factory 

110 

Winter         

136 

Invocation 

112 

July  24th,  1872 

137 

"  I  was  Sick,  and  ye  visited 

Musings 

138 

me."        

114 

Song  —  Deseret 

139 

Jubilee  Hymn 

116 

Truth        

140 

Autumn         

118 

Welcome 

141 

To  My  Husband 

119 

Song  —  Strive  for  the  Right 

143 

When  I'm  Happy 

121 

Consolation 

144 

To  Elder  Geo.  W.  Wilkins 

122 

Returning  Missionaries 

145 

Pioneer  Day 

123 

Memory  of  Childhood 

146 

Mutability 

125 

December  25th 

148 

Re-Union  of  the  Y.  L.  M. 

Departing  Missionaries 

150 

I.  A  

125 

A  Song  of  Praise     .. 

152 

We  are  Marching  On 

127 

A  Happy  New  Year 

1153 

To  Mrs.  S.  M.  Heywood 

128 

Think  of  Thy  Mother         .. 

155 

A  Plea  for  the  Relief  Society 

129               On  the  Birth  of  our  Grand- 

A  Prayer 

131 

son 

156 

To  Mrs.  Mary  Ann  Jones 

132 

ifSJtfT" 

*Eifc 

Res     n          MR 

157 

*3«-  .- 

===== 

EARLY  INFLUENCES. 


SUREL  "  goodness  and  mercy  have  followed  me 
all  the  days  of  my  life,  "  I  am  compelled  to  ac- 
knowledge, as  from  the  grave  of  the  buried  past,  I 
seek  to  bring  forth  some  events  in  my  life,  which,  for 
the  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  my  fellow  crea- 
tures, ought  not  to  be  lost  in  oblivion.  I  realize 
that  if  I  have  received  but  one  talent,  I  am  account- 
able to  the  Giver  for  the  proper  use  of  the  same  ; 
which  consideration  has  induced  me  to  write  a  short 
history  of  my  life,  in  order  that  my  verses  may  be 
better  understood. 

I  am  the  eldest  child  of  William  Last  and  Hannah 
Hollingsworth.  My  father  was  the  eldest  son  of 
James  Last,  and  Eve  Woods  ;  my  mother,  the  young- 
est child  of  Samuel  Hollingsworth  and  Lydia  God- 
dard,  of  the  parish  of  Hoten,  near  the  town  of  Hales- 
worth,  county  of  Suffolk,  England.  I  was  born 
March  iyth,  1822,  in  Rose  Hall,  an  ancient  mansion, 
situated  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Waveny,  near 
Beccles,  Suffolk,  England.  My  parents  were  mem- 
bers of  the  Episcopal,  or  Established  Church,  and 
honored  their  profession  by  serving  God,  according 
to  the  light  they  possessed. 

I  was  early  taught  by  them  to  love  that  Being,  who 
has  made  the  earth  so  beautiful,  and  provided  so 
much  for  His  creatures  dwelling  thereon  ;  thus  I  was 


I0  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


early  led  to  admire  and  reverence  the  Creator  through 
His'works  ;  and  especially  from  my  mother's  teaching, 
learned  my  duty  to  Him,  as  revealed  in  the  Bible. 
This  sacred  book  was  my  mother's  companion  by 
day  and  by  night;  and  before  able  to  read,  I  had 
committed  to  memory,  under  her  tuition,  many  of  its 
holy  precepts.  When,  at  six  years  of  age,  I  began  to 
trace  the  simpler  portions  myself,  I  knew  no  greater 
enjoyment  than  reading  its  pages,  and  I  committed 
to  memory  much  of  the  New  Testament  and  the 
Psalms. 

I  was  much  alone  in  my  early  childhood,  my 
brother  and  sister,  Benjamin  and  Eliza,  wh  >  were 
twins,  having  died  at  an  early  age  ;  and  my  sister 
Lydia,  though  I  loved  her  tenderly,  was  too  young 
for  a  companion  ;  but  to  this  sweet  child, — who  for 
a  few  years  gladdened  our  home,  then  went  back  to 
her  home  above,  to  which,  even  while  on  earth  she 
seemed  to  belong, — I  shall  have  occasion  to  again 
refer. 

While  I  was  yet  too  young  to  appreciate  the  pic- 
turesque beauty  of  my  childhood's  home,  reverses 
came  to  our  family,  and  Rose  Hall  was  exchanged 
for  a  suburban  cottage,  a  short  distance  from  our 
former  residence ;  and  here,  surrounded  by  rural 
scenery,  and  a  pleasant  cottage  garden,  the  first  re- 
membered events  of  my  life  transpired. 

When  I  was  about  seven  years  of  age,  the  most 
wonderful  and  venerated  event  of  my  life  occurred, 
although  I  cannot  recollect  the  exact  date  thereof.  I 
have  never  written  an  account  of  this  circumstance, 
realizing  that  no  language  of  mine  could  adequately 
describe  it ;  and  now,  after  a  period  of  fifty  years,  a 
feeling  of  awe  comes  over  me,  which  I  try  in  vain  to 
overcome. 

My  father  and  I  were  walking  in  our  garden  one 
evening,  in  the  mellow  twilight,  and  a  quiet  gray 


EARLY    INFLUENCES.  II 


beauty  pervaded  the  scene,  when  a  sudden  flash  of 
light  made  us  start;  and  turning  towards  the  point 
whence  it  proceeded,  we  saw  a  remarkable  streak  of 
red,  rising  in  the  west,  which  riveted  our  attention 
by  its  brightness.  While  watching  its  upward  course,  ! 
an  arm,  and  a  hand  holding  a  roll  were  plainly  vis- 
ible ;  and  soon  the  form  of  a  person  appeared,  full 
in  sight,  following  the  streak  of  red  before  mentioned; 
a  light,  similar  to  the  first,  followed  this  wonderful 
personage,  and  the  whole  procession  slowly  moved 
through  the  midst  of  the  heavens,  and  disappeared 
at  the  eastern  boundary  of  the  horizon.  During 
the  passage  of  this  heavenly  being  across  the  entire 
arch  of  the  sky,  the  right  hand  was  in  motion,  wav- 
ing the  roll,  as  if  showing  it  to  the  inhabitants  of  ihe 
earth.  This  wonderful  vision  having  disappeared, 
my  father  and  I,  hand  in  hand,  stood  as  if  spell 
bound,  when  we  heard  two  men  passing  along  the 
road,  (from  which  a  living  fence  or  hedge  separated 
us,)  discoursing  on  what  they,  as  well  as  ourselves, 
had  seen.  Tne  one  remarked  to  the  other,  that  he 
thought  it  could  not  be  an  angel,  as  no  wings  were 
visible  ;  we,  too,  had  observed  this,  yet  believed  it 
to  be  an  angel.  A  loose  robe  covered  the  body, 
leaving  the  arms  and  a  portion  of  the  limbs  visible. 

As  soon  as  we  were  able  to  walk,  we  went  to  the 
house,  when  mother  saw  that  something  unusual  had 
happened,  and  asked  what  made  us  so  pale.  At  my 
request,  father  allowed  me  to  relate  to  her  what  we 
had  seen.  When  I  had  given  an  account  of  this 
strange  phenomenon,  she  was  much  affected,  and 
remarked  that  it  was  one  of  the  signs  of  the  last  days, 
which,  according  to  the  Revelations  of  St.  John, 
would  transpire. 

I  had  loved  God  before  ;  now  I  feared  and  rever- 
enced Him  ;  and  desired  to  know  more  of  that  Be- 
ing who  rules  in  the  heavens  above,  and  on  the  earth 


12  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


beneath.  I  loved  to  be  alone,  especially  at  eventide, 
to  watch  the  heavens,  thinking  another  angel  would 
appear ;  by  degrees,  however,  this  desire  to  watch, 
wore  off.  I  was  attending  school,  and  my  lessons, 
requiring  attention,  diverted  my  mind. 

About  this  time  I  had  a  companion  of  my  own  age, 
an  orphan  girl,  named  Maria  Springer,  who  came  to 
live  with  her  grandfather,  Robert  Sharman,  overseer 
of  a  brick-yard  and  pottery,  near  our  home.  We  at- 
tended the  same  school,  and  our  play  hours  being 
spent  together,  her  presence  was  a  great  comfort  to 
me. 

I  delighted  in  reading,  my  parents  providing  books 
suited  to  my  age,  and  was  very  much  interested  in  a 
monthly  periodical,  called  the  Child' 's  Companion, 
first  published  in  1830,  by  the  Religious  Tract  Society. 

Ours  was  a  happy  fireside  ;  my  maternal  grand- 
mother lived  with  us,  on  an  annuity  of  her  own,  and 
contributed  much  to  the  comfort  of  the  family;  the 
children  thus  receiving  many  little  indulgences  not 
otherwise  attainable. 

As  the  years  passed  on,  there  seems  nothing  to  re- 
cord, except  that  my  religious  desires  deepened  and 
my  anxiety  to  understand  the  plan  of  human  redemp- 
tion increased.  I  attended  public  worship  with  my 
parents,  who  began  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  reli- 
gious tenets  they  had  espoused.  My  mother  was  the 
first  to  dissent.  Attracted  by  the  earnest  eloquence 
of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Morell,  a  Congregationalist 
minister,  she  became  a  member  of  that  denomina- 
tion, with  which  she  remained  satisfied  until  her 
death. 

Soon  a  deep  sorrow  invaded  our  home  ;  my  sister 
Lydia  sickened,  and  no  mortal  power  could  stay  the 
hand  of  the  destroyer,  Death.  She  had  been  the 
light  and  joy  of  our  hearts  and  home  for  eleven  years; 
and  her  death  caused  a  void  that  never  could  be 


EARLY    INFLUENCES.  13 


filled.  I  was  fourteen  years  old  when  this  great 
trouble  came  to  us.  •  We  had  been  tenderly  attached 
to  each  other,  shared  the  same  room  and  bed,  knelt 
side  by  side,  morning  and  evening,  to  pray,  when 
her  pleadings  with  the  Father  of  her  spirit  were  the 
most  earnest  I  ever  heard.  He  answered  her  prayer, 
and  taught  her  by  His  holy  spirit,  how  original  sin 
was  atoned  for  in  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  re- 
member her  tears  of  joy  on  telling  us  this  ;  and  her 
opening  the  little  Testament  and  reading  to  us  the 
9th  and  loth  Chaps,  of  Hebrews,  as  the  foundation  of 
her  hopes.  She  took  leave  of  each  of  us  most  affec- 
tionately, and  gave  to  each,  tokens  of  remembrance. 
She  passed  away  peacefully,  August  yth,  1836.  My 
two  little  sisters,  Amelia  and  Mary  Ann,  were  too 
young  to  fully  understand  the  loss  of  this  beloved 
sister  ;.  but  I  mourned  so  deeply  that  my  health  be- 
came impaired.  Our  family  physician  prescribing 
change  of  air  and  scene,  my  alarmed  parents  decided 
to  act  upon  his  advice  ;  meanwhile  I  was  praying  to 
God  for  help  to  control  my  grief,  desiring  again  to 
see  my  beloved  sister  ;  and  this  desire  was  granted 
me. 

One  Sunday  afternoon,  feeling  too  unwell  to  goto 
church,  I  remained  at  home,  the  other  members  of 
the  family  attending.  Thus  alone,  my  thoughts  re- 
verted to  my  sister ;  when  lo  !  she  stood  before  me, 
as  when  in  perfect  health  and  loveliness.  My  first 
impulse  was  to  embrace  her,  but  she  moved  from  me, 
saying,  "No,  dear,  you  cannot.  "  I  was  disappoint- 
ed at  this,  and  tried  again  to  clasp  her  in  my  arms; 
but  she  again  assured  me  I  could  not,  and  I  had  to 
be  content  to  talk  to  her  at  a  distance.  I  asked  her 
if  she  lived  in  Heaven  ;  she  replied,  ' '  I  am  where 
Jesus  is,  will  that  satisfy  you?"  I  said,  "Yes;'' 
and  asked  how  her  clothes  had  been  kept  so  well  ; 
she  replied,  "You  remember,  that  while  the  children 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


of  Israel  traveled  in  the  wilderness,  their  clothes  did 
not  wax  old  ;  mine  are  preserved  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple." After  some  further  conversation,  she  dis- 
appeared, keeping  her  face  towards  me  until  she 
vanished  from  sight.  During  her  stay,  and  after  she 
left,  I  was  not  in  the  least  alarmed.  I  knew  she  had 
come  from  the  spirit  world  to  gratify  my  longing  de- 
sire to  see  her.  On  their  return,  I  told  my  parents 
what  had  happened  and  they  thought  it  was  a  dream, 
but  I  knew  I  was  awake  at  the  time,  although,  at  my 
mother's  request,  I  afterwards  told  it  as  a  dream. 

From  this  time  my  mind  was  satisfied,  and  my  in- 
terest in  life  returned  :  but  my  health  continued  to 
fail,  and  my  parents  were  studying  how  to  procure  for 
me  the  desired  change,  when  a  lady  of  our  acquain- 
tance, returning  from  abroad  to  her  home  in  Clap- 
ham,  London,  wrote  inviting  me  to  stay  with  her. 
We  thought  this  very  providential,  and  preparations 
were  made  for  my  immediate  departure ;  but  I  did 
not  feel  as  if  all  was  right ;  I  had  a  dread  of  London, 
and  the  snares  and  temptations  set  for  the  young 
there.  On  the  day  preceding  that  fixed  for  my 
journey,  I  was  very  unhappy.  The  thought  of  leaving 
my  home  and  its  associations  was  more  painful  than 
can  be  described.  I  looked  at  the  traveling  trunks, 
packed  by  my  tender  mother's  careful  hand,  and 
wept  bitterly,  until  my  overcharged  heart  was  re- 
lieved. Taking  Bible  in  hand  I  went  to  my  room, 
and  locked  the  door.  Opening  the  sacred  book  at 
the  words  of  Moses,  "  If  Thy  presence  go  not  with  us, 
carry  us  not  up  hence,"  I  knelt,  and  taking  those 
words  for  my  prayer,  repeated  them  until  the  an- 
swer came  in  the  words  found  in  Hosea,  2nd  Chap. 
6th  verse,  "  I  will  hedge  up  thy  way  with  thorns." 
I  pondered  long  on  the  meaning  of  the  words ;  and 
feeling  that  the  intended  journey  would  not  be  for 
my  good,  I  decided  not  to  take  it. 


LOVE    AND    WEDLOCK. 


My  parents,  though  surprised  at  this  decision,  ac- 
quiesced when  I  told  them  of  my  conviction.  My 
fare,  which  had  been  paid  to  London  by  stage,  we 
had  to  lose.  Afterwards,  we  were  satisfied  that  an 
overruling  hand  had  directed  this,  as  it  had  many 
other  affairs  of  my  life,  for  good. 

A  few  days  after  this,  and  while  we  were  planning 
a  visit  to  my  aunt  Royal,  who  lived  in  the  city  of 
Norwich,  a  gentleman  who  lived  near  us,  called  to 
ask  if  mother  could  spare  me  for  a  short  time,  as  his 
children,  just  deprived  by  death  of  their  mother, 
had  promised,  that  if  I  would  stay  with  them,  they 
would  not  grieve.  My  mother  consented  on  condi- 
tion that  my  health  should  be  carefully  studied, 
and  my  education  continued ;  and  extracted  from 
me  a  promise  that  I  would  not  read  works  of  fiction, 
as  she  considered  them  exceedingly  pernicious  to  the 
young.  This  promise  I  faithfully  kept,  devoting 
my  leisure  hours  to  reading  works  of  biography, 
travels,  history  and  theology ;  which,  young  as  I 
was,  my  mind,  enlightened  by  the  spirit  which  giv- 
eth  light,  in  a  measure  comprehended. 


M 


CHAPTER  II. 
LOVE  AND  WEDLOCK. 

Y  new  home  was  all  that  could  be  desired. 
The  sweet  motherless  children  were  prepared 
to  love  me ;  and  I,  with  an  aching  heart  for  the  loss 
of  my  sister,  gladly  returned  their  love.  They  had 
been  well  trained  by  their  departed  mother  ;  and  to 
instruct  them  was  an  easy  task.  We  daily  rambled 
in  the  fields  and  meadows  which  surrounded  our 
pleasant  home.  Under  these  favorable  influences, 
my  health  quickly  improved  ;  and  as  the  days  and 
weeks  sped  on,  I  scarcely  noted  time's  rapid  flight; 
until  many  months  had  passed  when  Mr. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


brought  home  a  wife  to  fill  the  vacant  place.  My 
thoughts  then  turned  to  the  home  I  still  loved  so 
dearly  ;  but  it  was  decided  that  I  could  not  yet  be 
spared;  and  my  parents,  by  this  time  accustomed 
to  my  absence,  allowed  me  to  remain. 

I  could  fill  a  volume,  describing  the  admirable 
qualities  of  this  accomplished  lady;  but  my  limited 
space  will  only  admit  a  brief  notice  ;  too  brief,  in- 
deed, to  do  justice  to  her  memory.  Perhaps,  in  the 
spirit  world,  to  which  she  has  gone,  she  knows  of, 
and  appreciates  this  humble  tribute.  Her  influence 
was  soon  felt  by  every  member  of  the  household. 
She  was  benevolent,  and  had  a  large  visiting  dis- 
trict, and  none  within  its  limits  suffered  for  any- 
thing she  had  the  power  to  bestow.  By  degrees,  as 
her  domestic  duties  increased,  this  part  fell  to  my 
share  ;  and  with  my  desire  to  do  good,  became  a 
very  pleasing  duty. 

One  bond  of  union  in  this  family  was  the  meeting 
of  all  its  members,  morning  and  evening,  for  family 
worship;  parents,  children,  servants  and  visitors,  all 
met  on  common  ground,  to  worship  God.  When 
all  were  seated,  every  one,  from  the  oldest  to  the 
youngest,  repeated  a  portion  of  scripture  ;  one  verse 
at  least,  giving  Book,  Chapter  and  verse.  The  head 
of  the  family  then  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible,  which 
was  followed  by  prayer ;  when  all  separated  to  attend 
to  their  respective  duties. 

During  the  six  years'  residence  in  this  family,  I 
had  the  privilege  of  attending  religious  meetings, 
Bible  classes,  lectures,  &c.  On  the  4th  day  of 
June,  in  the  year  1841,  I  was  publicly  received  as 
a  member  of  the  Congregational  Church,  under  the 
pastoral  care  of  the  Rev.  John  Flower. 

I  can  hardly  estimate  the  value  of  the  mental  and 
moral  culture  I  received  during  this  part  of  my  life. 
My  mind  expanded  like  an  opening  flower  to  the 


LOVE    AND    WEDLOCK.  17 


glad  sunshine ;  but  I  did  not  live  to  myself.  I  saw 
misery,  want  and  suffering  around  me,  and  in  every 
way  in  my  power,  tried  to  alleviate  it.  I  became 
deeply  interested  in  Foreign  missions,  through  lis- 
tening to  the  eloquent  appeals  of  Williams,  Moffat, 
Pritchard,  and  other  distinguished  missionaries:  I  also 
labored  for  the  emancipation  of  -the  slaves  in  the 
West  Indies  and  was  present  at  the  meeting  held  at 
the  hour  in  which  the  fetters  of  slavery  were  broken, 
and  three  millions  of  human  beings,  hitherto  held 
in  galling  chains,  set  free.  My  heart  still  bled  for 
the  slaves  in  America,  that  land  of  boasted  liberty, 
and  my  indignation  was  raised  to  burning  shame, 
as,  occasionally,  an  escaped  slave  reached  our  land 
of  freedom,  and  told  of  the  sufferings  of  his  fellows 
in  slavery. 

I  knew,  from  the  Bible,  that  God  had  made  of  one 
blood,  all  who  dwell  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  I 
brooded  over  the  negro's  v/rongs,  until  I  hated  the 
land  where  laws  existed,  making  one  man  the  prop- 
erty of  another,  never  dreaming  that  from  that  land, 
would  come  to  me  a  deliverance  from  stronger  fetters 
than  those  by  which  the  negro  slaves  were  bound, — 
even  deliverance  from  sectarian  dogmas,  to  the  light 
of  the  Gospel.  Up  to  this  time,  I  had  not  even 
heard  that  the  Gospel  had  been  restored  by  the  hand 
of  an  angel,  to  Joseph  Smith,  the  Prophet  of  this 
dispensation. 

I  find  it  difficult  to  cull  from  the  history  of  my 
life  during  this  period ;  each  part  was  real  and 
earnest,  and  each  day  found  me  actively  employed. 

"  Suitors  came,  my  hand  to  claim,"  but  as  yet, 
my  heart  gave  no  response  to  the  symphony  of  love ; 
though  appreciating  the  honor  they  sought  to  con- 
fer on  me.  My  friends  blamed,  and  predicted  for 
me  the  fate  of  an  Old  maid  ;  this,  however,  did  not 
distress  me;  my  Bible  said,  "be  not  unequally  yoked 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


with  unbelievers,"  and  thinking  myself  a  believer, 
feared  to  be  yoked  with  an  unbeliever;  none  of  those 
who  had  presented  themselves  making  any  profes- 
sion of  religion. 

But  a  day  came,  when,  as  in  all  my  life,  I  had 
been  "led  in  a  way  I  knew  not ;"  so,  with  this  im- 
portant step  it  was  the  same. 

One  day  I  was  in  the  town  on  business,  walking 
along  Market  Street,  intent  only  on  the  errand 
which  called  me  there,  when  I  met  a  young  man,  an 
entire  stranger  to  me.  Now  this  was  nothing  re- 
markable in  a  busy  town  like  Beccles,  nor  was  there 
anything  remarkable  in  the  appearance  of  this 
stranger;  but  something  whispered,  "That  is  your 
future  husband."  Surprised  at  this,  I  turned  to  take 
a  look  at  him,  and,  to  my  annoyance,  he  had  also 
turned  to  look  at  me.  Ashamed  of  myself  for  this 
breach  of  street  etiquette,  I  hastily  resumed  my  way, 
and  this  stranger,  who  had  thus  attracted  my  atten- 
tion was  lost  to  sight.  Not  so  with  the  interest  he 
had  created  in  my  heart.  Business  was  for  the  time 
forgotten;  I  walked  aimlessly  on,  thinking  of  this 
strange  event,  when  I  was  met  by  my  sister  Amelia, 
who  asked  what  had  happened  to  make  me  look  so 
pleased.  I  told  her  frankly  of  the  singular  circum- 
stance just  recorded.  She  smiled,  and  said,  "Oh, 
my  romantic  sister."  I  replied,  "  Do  not  make  fun  of 
me  ;  I  shall  marry  that  man,  or  I  shall  never  marry 
on  this  earth.  "  I  told  other  of  my  friends  the 
same.  I  had  never  seen  this  man  before  ;  I  might 
never  see  him  again ;  but  this  made  no  difference. 
I  spent  hours,  "dreaming  love's  first  dream,"  happy 
in  thinking,  that  sometime,  either  in  this  probation 
or  another,  I  should  meet  him  again. 

Months  rolled  on;  another  element  had  come  into 
my  existence.  I  could  not  drive  from  my  thoughts 
this  singular  incident,  when,  apparently  by  the 


LOVE    AND    WEDLOCK.  19 


merest  accident,  at  the  house  of  a  friend,  I  met,  and 
was  introduced  to  Mr.  Cornaby,  who  had  come  to 
Beccles  to  take  charge  of  a  public  school ;  and  here, 
dear  reader,  let  me  introduce  to  you  my  future  hus- 
band ;  for  in  this  gentleman  I  recognized  the  mys- 
terious stranger,  who  for  months  had  filled  my 
thoughts.  Though  perturbed  and  agitated,  I  con- 
cealed my  emotion,  and  left  the  house  as  quickly  as 
possible;  and  in  the  quietude  of  my  own  room, 
thought  and  prayed  earnestly  for  the  guidance  of  the 
holy  spirit  to  direct  me  aright.  Accidental  meetings 
with  Mr.  Cornaby  frequently  happened  after  this. 
Our  acquaintance  ripened  into  friendship ;  and  a 
sympathy,  which  neither  of  us  understood,  was  mak- 
ing that  friendship  a  necessity. 

Three  delightful  years  followed  ;  but  a  description 
of  those  years,  though  pleasing  to  me,  would  not  in- 
terest my  readers.  Up  to  this  time,  love  had  never 
been  mentioned  ;  and  Mr.  Cornaby  knew  nothing 
of  the  sentiment  that  was  filling  my  life.  He  had 
ambitious  aspirations  for  his  future ;  and  often  spoke 
of  leaving  Beccles  to  enter  a  college  in  London.  In 
pursuance  of  this  plan,  the  time  came  for  our  adieus 
1  to  be  said,  and  he  took  his  departure  to  London  for  an 
indefinite  period  while  I  was  left  to  pursue  "the 
even  tenor  of  my  way," — to  seek  for  strength  to 
bear  this  trial  of  my  faith  and,  as  usual,  to  draw 
comfort  and  satisfaction  from  the  assurance,  that 
"all  things  work  together  for  good  to  those  who  love 
God."  I  resumed  my  somewhat  neglected  duties, 
becoming  more  assiduous  in  my  visits  to  the  sick  and 
needy,  reading  to  them,  and  schooling  myself  into 
the  belief  that  I  was  meeting  the  reward  I  merited, 
in  allowing  myself  to  set  up  an  idol  in  my  heart. 

We  corresponded  frequently,  and  the  letters  from 
London  were  always  welcome ;  but  at  length  ceased, 
and  weeks  of  suspense  ensued.  I  then  learned  that 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


the  object  of  my  solicitude  lay  dangerously  sick  of 
lung  fever;  but  after  days  of  anxious  waiting,  a  let- 
ter from  himself,  written  in  a  trembling  hand,  told 
that  the  doctor  pronounced  him  out  of  danger,  but 
advised  removal"  to  his  native  air.  At  the  time  this 
intelligence  reached  me,  I  was  watching  beside  the 
sick  bed  of  a  friend,  whom  I  could  not  leave  until 
the  danger  was  passed  ;  by  which  time,  Mr.  Cornaby 
had  been  removed  to  Lowestoft, — his  native  town, — 
and  breathing  the  bracing  sea  air,  was  returning  to 
health. 

During  the  weeks  of  convalescence  which  followed, 
he  visited  Beccles;  and  it  was  then,  while  rambling 
together  along  the  delicious  green  lanes  for  which 
England  is  so  famed,  in  that  loveliest  of  all  months, — 
the  leafy  month  of  June, — breathing  the  sweet  per- 
fume of  hawthorne,  honeysuckle  and  wild  rose,  I 
listened  to  words  sweeter  to  me  than  all  their  sweets 
combined , — to  the  words  in  which  he  told  his  love. 
This  was  the  first  day  of  June,  1850.  Next  day  he 
returned  to  London  to  continue  his  interrupted 
studies. 

If  I  had  expected  this  consummation  to  my  long 
cherished  hopes  would  bring  entire  happiness,  I  was 
doomed  to  disappointment.  Mr.  Cornaby  was  not 
a  believer,  although  he  attended  meeting  punctually, 
and  led  a  strictly  moral  life.  I  had  refused  other 
suitors  on  this  very  ground,  and  I  keenly  felt  the  in- 
consistency into  which  love  was  now  leading  me ; 
especially  as  it  was  pointed  out  by  friends,  including 
my  minister  and  adviser,  who,  in  kindly  earnestness, 
told  me,  that  "loving  him  would  take  me  to  hell." 
In  an  instant,  the  words  seemed  put  into  my  mouth, 
"If  loving  him  will  take  me  to  hell,  I  shall  go."  Mr. 

F ,  finding  my  decision  was  taken,  said  no  more; 

but  my  conscience  troubling  me  much,  I  at   length 
took   the  whole  burden  of  my  sorrow  to  my  Father 


THE    LIGHT    OF    THE    GOSPEL. 


in  Heaven,  until  the  guidance  I  had  never  sought  in 
vain,  came  in  the  words,  '•'  This  is  the  way,  walk  ye 
in  it."  I  was  satisfied,  and  regardless  of  conse- 
quences, walked  the  path,  in  which,  without  any 
choice  of  my  own,  I  was  being  led.  Shortly  after- 
wards, Mr.  Cornaby  took  a  relapse;  and  London  life, 
with  its  ambitious  hopes  of  a  profession,  were  alike 
abandoned.  This  was  a  great  trial  to  him  at  the 
time ;  but  He,  -who  controls  the  destinies  of  the  in- 
habitants of  earth,  was  overruling  all  for  his  good. 
Leasing  a  place  in  Great  Yarmouth,  Norfolk 
County,  Mr.  Cornaby  opened  a  book  store  and,  be- 
sides, gave  lessons  in  phonography;  thus  finding  oc- 
cupation which,  although  not  altogether  to  his  taste, 
promised  a  livelihood ;  and  on  January  3oth,  1851, 
we  were  married  in  St.  George's  Church,  a  venerable 
structure,  celebrated  for  its  antiquity  and  architect- 
ural beauty. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

AMONG  the  current  literature  of  the  day  that,  in 
the  way  of  business,  passed  through  our  hands, . 
was  a  series  of  tracts  published  by  Chambers,  one  of 
which,  entitled,  "Religious  Impostors,"  attracted 
our  attention.  After  giving  an  account  of  various 
religious  impostors,  it  concluded  by  giving  a  brief 
history  of  Joseph  Smith;  and  a  foot  note  on  the  last 
page  stated  that  the  editors  had  heard,  since  the 
pamphlet  had  gone  to  press,  that  Joseph  Smith  had 
been  killed  by  a  mob.  They  regretted  to  hear  this, 
for  the  reason  that  his  fanatical  followers  would  re- 
gard him  as  a  martyr,  and  the  delusion  would 
spread. 

This  was  our  first  introduction  to  Mormonism. 
Soon  after  this,  another  book  came  in  our  way,   en- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


titled,  "The  Mormons,  Illustrated,"  published  by 
the  Illustrated  London  News  Company.  It  con- 
tained copious  extracts  from  Col.  Kane's  Lectures  be- 
fore the  Historical  Society  of  Pennsylvania ;  also 
from  Joseph  Smith's  teachings.  Although  the 
book  was  written  to  show  the  fallacy  of  "  Mormon- 
ism,"  it  made  a  deep  impression  on  my  mind.  My 
husband  and  I  read  it  together  carefully  and  thought- 
fully, and  we  arose  from  its  perusal  satisfied  of  the 
divine  mission  of  Joseph  Smi'th. 

For  some  time  previous  to  this,  the  foundation  of 
my  religious  faith  had  been  shaken.  Accustomed  as 
I  was  to  read  my  bible,  it  was  impossible  not  to  see 
many  discrepancies  between  the  teachings  of  the  re- 
ligious sects  and  those  of  the  Saviour ;  most  of  all, 
the  lack  of  promised  signs  which  were  to  follow  be- 
lievers. 

Our  minds  were  not  at  ease ;  we  were  removed 
from  former  associations,  untrammeled  by  any  relig- 
ious obligation,  and  were  determined  to  seek  for 
truth  wherever  it  could  be  found.  With  the  bible 
as  our  standard,  we  concluded  to  take  its  precepts  as 
our  guide. 

We  often  took  long  walks  by  the  sea  side,  unseen, 
save  by  that  eye  that  is  ever  over  the  righteous,  and 
prayed  and  talked  upon  the  subject  that  occupied  so 
much  of  our  thoughts.  This  struggle  went  on  for 
months. 

I  remember,  once,  as  we  were  walking  beside  the 
river  Yare,  I  wished  I  was  sleeping  beneath  the  deep 
quiet  waters,  I  was  so  weary  of  this  struggle.  A  gloom, 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  had  over-shadowed  me. 
I  thought  my  Father  in  Heaven  had  forsaken  me  ; 
but  at  length,  out  of  the  darkness  came  the  assurance, 
"  Fear  not,  for  I  am  with  thee ;"  but  as  yet,  I  knew 
not  that  this,  the  darkest  hour  of  my  life,  would 
usher  in  the  glad  beams  of  the  "  Sun  of  Righteous- 


THE    LIGHT    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  23 


ness"  whose  brightness  would  increase  until  the  per- 
fect day. 

It  was  the  beginning  of  February  '52,  on  a  cold 
stormy  evening,  that,  looking  out  at  the  door  to 
watch  the  progress  of  the  storm,  I  saw  a  man  shelter- 
ing under  the  awning  in  front  of  our  store.  I  in- 
vited him  to  come  inside  for  better  protection  from 
the  weather,  which  he  did,  expressing  his"  thanks, 
but  assuring  me  that  if  I  knew  who  he  was  I  probably 
would  not  welcome  him  under  my  roof.  I  was  startled 
at  this,  but  replied  that  I  had  only  done  what  was 
my  duty  to  any  fellow-creature  under  the  circum- 
stances. He  then  introduced  himself,  as  George 
Day,  a  Latter-day  Saint  Elder,  who  had  been  sent 
to  preach  the  gospel  in  that  town.  I  remarked,  that  I 
thought  we  had  ministers  enough  already  to  preach 
the  gospel ;  he  replied,  none  of  them  had  authority 
to  preach  ;  but  he  had  been  sent  with  authority  as 
the  Saviour  sent  his  disciples.  I  then  hastened  to 
call  my  husband,  who  received  him  courteously,  and 
invited  him  to  supper.  After  supper,  he  spent  the 
evening  with  us,  telling  of  the  Latter-day  work  ;  we 
listened  with  great  interest  until  bed-time.  We  pro- 
cured lodging  for  him  at  a  hotel  near  by,  and  he 
breakfasted  with  us  next  morning.  Before  he  left, 
he  made  an  appointment,  at  our  request,  to  call 
again  that  evening  and  preach  to  us,  we  promising  to 
call  in  our  near  neighbors  to  hear  him. 

All  day  emotions  of  hope  and  fear  were  battling  in 
our  bosoms.  Could  this  wonderful  news  be  true  ? 
Was  God  about  to  answer  our  prayers  for  guidance 
in  this  manner  ?  Had  we,  by  receiving  this  stranger, 
unexpectedly  received  the  blessing  of  peace  to  our 
troubled  spirits  ?  We  scarcely  dared  to  hope,  yet 
dared  not  to  doubt.  Evening  came,  and  with  it 
Elder  Day  and  the  friends  we  had  invited.  He 
preached  and  we  believed,  and  thought  it  impossible 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


for  any  one  who  heard  it  to  do  otherwise;  but  with  our 
neighbors,  it  was  different;  they  could  scarcely 
refrain  from  abusing  him  and  us,  and  called  us  fools 
for  listening  to  such  lies.  We  were  astonished  be- 
yond measure  at  this,  thinking  they  would  be  so 
glad ;  but  we  were  too  happy  to  be  angry  at  such 
strange  conduct.  When  Elder  Day  left,  we  gave 
him  permission  to  make  our  house  his  home,  when 
he  had  no  other.  This  meeting  caused  a  great  hue 
and  cry,  and  parsons  and  others  coming  to  hear 
about  this  new  religion,  we  could  do  little  else  than 
answer  questions.  It  was  such  a  sudden  turn  of 
affairs,  we  hardly  knew  what  to  do  ;  our  friends  be- 
came enemies ;  we  were  persecuted  and.  annoyed  in 
many  ways.  Before  this,  we  were  respected  and  es- 
teemed by  many.  Now,  if  we  walked  along  the  streets, 
we  met  no  kindly  greeting,  but  were  pointed  out  as 
"  Saints,"  and  sometimes  stoned.  Others  believed, 
and  a  few  were  baptized  when  Elder  Claudius  V. 
Spencer,  then  president  of  the  Norwich  Conference, 
came  and  organized  a  branch  of  the  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints,  in  the  town  of  Great 
Yarmouth.  Elder  Spencer  removed  a  few  lingering 
doubts  from  my  husband's  mind,  and  he  was  baptized 
and  confirmed.  I,  too,  desired  baptism,  but  the 
birth  of  our  first  child  delayed  it  for  a  time.  We 
placed  the  publications  of  the  church  in  our  store 
windows.  These  attracted  considerable  attention, 
and  at  the  same  time  relieved  us  from  answering  so 
many  questions.  As  soon  as  my  health  would  admit, 
I  renewed  my  request  for  baptism.  A  time  was  ap- 
pointed to  attend  to  this  ordinance.  I  left  my  babe 
in  the  care  of  a  nurse  whom  I  could  trust,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  a  house  near  the  sea-side,  where  we  met  to 
make  preparations.  We  found  the  house  surrounded 
by  a  mob,  through  which  we  with  difficulty  made 
our  way,  amid  oaths  and  threats  of  what  would 


THE    LIGHT    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  25 


be  done  if  any  attempt  were  made  to  go  into  the 
water.  We  waited  until  near  midnight,  hoping  the 
crowd  would  disperse ;  but  it  had  all  this  time  been 
increasing,  until  it  numbered  many  hundreds,  and 
we  feared  violence,  not  only  to  ourselves,  but  to  the 
family,  under  whose  roof  we  were  waiting. 

Wearied  of  the  delay,  the  master  of  the  house 
thought  of  a  ruse.  He  went  to  the  door,  and  asked 
permission  for  his  son  to  pass  through  the  crowd  to 
his  boat,  as  he  was  a  fisherman,  and  it  was  necessary 
that  he  should  sail  with  the  outgoing  tide.  My  hus- 
band, previously  dressed  in  the  son's  clothes,  stepped 
out,  and  I  followed  in  the  darkness  unnoticed.  They 
soon  discovered  that  their  prey  had  escaped,  and 
before  we  reached  the  water's  edge,  the  whole  horde 
was  upon  us  ;  and  my  husband  baptized  me  amid  a 
shower  of  stones,  and  shouts  of  "duck  him!  duck 
him  !"  and  such  cries.  Elder  Day  appealed  for  pro- 
tection to  the  police,  several  of  whom  were  present, 
but  they  said  they  could  do  nothing.  We  then  made 
our  way  back,  as  best  we  could,  followed  by  the 
mob ;  and,  although  the  stones  whizzed  around  us 
thick  as  hail,  not  one  touched  us,  and  we  reached 
home  in  safety,  thanking  God  for  our  miraculous 
deliverance ;  determined,  more  than  ever,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  holy  spirit,  to  adhere — through  evil, 
as  well  as  good  report — to  the  principles  we  had  em- 
braced. At  the  next  meeting  of  the  saints,  I  was  con- 
firmed, and  knew  for  myself  that  the  work  was  of  God. 

Although  persecution  continued,  many  attended 
our  meetings,  and  a  few  were  added  to  the  church, 
until  our  branch  numbered  27  members.  A  few 
weeks  after  our  baptism,  my  husband,  by  the  counsel 
of  Prest.  Spencer,  closed  his  business  in  Yarmouth 
and  removed  to  Norwich,  to  take  charge  of  the  book 
agency  of  the  Conference ;  and  to  labor  in  other  de- 
partments, for  which  his  abilities  qualified  him. 


26  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


We  rented  a  house  in  Botolph  Street ;  and  selling 
off,  at  a  great  sacrifice,  our  stock  of  books  and  other 
tnings  we  should  not  need,  sent  our  household  effects 
by  steamer  while  we  journeyed  by  rail. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  June,  two  years  from 
the  June  before  mentioned  ;  then,  we  had  not  even 
heard  of  this  Latter-day  work,  now,  we  were  iden- 
tified with  it,  and  our  names  cast  out  as  evil  for  its 
sake  ;  but,  oh  !  how  happy  we  felt,  as  we  journeyed 
on  ;  how  unspeakably  dear  we  were  to  each  other  ! 
The  trials  through  which  we  had  already  passed, 
purified  our  faith  and  increased  our  love. 

Before  adopting  our  new  faith,  we  weighed  the 
matter  well,  and  counted  the  cost.  We  were  not 
coaxed  nor  coerced,  but  did  it  prayerfully,  thought- 
fully and  intelligently  ;  and  could  say  in  the  words 
of  the  Apostle  Paul ,  "  Neither  count  I  my  life  dear 
unto  myself,  so  that  I  might  finish  my  course  with 
joy."  ' 

On  arriving  at  Norwich,  we  were  warmly  received 
and  entertained  by  Brother  John  Spriggs  and  his 
kind  hearted  wife  ;  also  Sister  Francis  P.  Teasdel 
and  her  son ;  and  many  other  saints — too  numerous  to 
mention, — but  whose  names  have  been  fondly  cherish- 
ed through  a  lapse  of  twenty-eight  years. 

In  our  new  home,  we  enjoyed  without  persecution 
the  fellowship  and  communion  of  the  saints,  together 
with  the  gifts  and  blessings  of  the  Gospel,  promised 
by  the  Saviour.  Only  for  a  few  weeks,  however, 
were  we  permitted  to  enjoy  these  delightful  privil- 
eges; my  husband's  health  failed,  and,  as  travel  had 
hitherto  proved  beneficial  to  him,  he  decided  to  take 
a  business  trip  through  the  midland  counties  to  re- 
cruit ;  while  I,  for  the  first  time  since  our  marriage, 
was  left  alone  saving  the  presence  of  our  darling  little 
daughter,  now  five  months  old.  I  corresponded  reg- 
ularly with  my  parents  and  sisters,  and  invited 


THE    LIGHT    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  27 


them  to  visit  me  in  my  new  home  ;  but  they  excused 
themselves,  'and  I,  knowing  their  prejudice  to  my 
new  religion,  understood  the  cause. 

Almost  daily,  my  husband  wrote  very  cheery  letters 
telling  of  his  improved  health.  After  he  had  been 
absent  about  a  month,  I  was  attacked  with  a  violent 
fever  ;  and  although  the  more  distressing  symptoms 
abated,  through  the  laying  on  of  hands  by  the  elders, 
I  continued  very  week  and  low. 

In  this  feeble  state,  I  longed  for  the  society  of  my 
beloved  parents ;  but  as  there  was  no  direct  convey- 
ance to  Beccles,  I  resolved  to  go  by  train  to  Lowes- 
toft,  to  my  husband's  parents,  and  was  accompanied 
by  Mrs.  Neslen.  This  journey,  although  carefully 
taken,  brought  on  a  relapse.  My  friends  thought 
the  doctor  should  be  called  in,  but  I  objected, 
imploring  them  to  call  in  the  elders.  To  this,  how- 
ever, they  were  opposed,  and,  not  presuming  to 
insist,  I  made  my  way  in  the  evening,  to  the  house 
of  father  Samuel  Neslen,  only  to  find  that  he  and 
brother  John  Goggle  had  gone  some  miles  out  of 
town  to  administer  to  a  sick  person.  Greatly  dis- 
appointed, I  crawled  back  as  best  I  could,  supporting 
myself  by  the  buildings  and  fences  as  I  passed  along. 
I  reached  my  room,  the  fever  raging,  with  just 
enough  conciousness  to  wonder  if  I  should  die,  yet 
desiring  life.  I  knelt  by  my  bedside,  repeating  the 
words;  "  O,  Lord,  help  me,"  until  a  voice  said, 
"From  this  time  will  Iblessthee."  These  words 
were  repeated  three  times.  More  thankful  than  I 
can  express,  I  arose  from  my  knees,  retired  to  bed, 
and  was  soon  in  a  peaceful  slumber  from  which  I  did 
not  awake  until  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens.  I 
then  found  that  the  fever  had  entirely  left  me,  the 
consequent  weakness  only  remaining,  and  which  a 
few  days  of  sea-side  life  removed  so  that  I  was  able 
to  bear  the  journey  home.  Next  day  my  husband 


2g  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


returned,  after  an  absence  of  nine  weeks,  well  and 
happy.  Shortly  afterwards,  I  visited  my  parents, 
who  received  me  tenderly  ;  and  showed  such  affection 
for  our  babe— their  first  grandchild— that  my  heart 
smote  me  for  the  sorrow  I  had  caused  those  loving 
hearts.  Our  parting  was  a  sorrowful  one,  although 
I  did  not  then  know  that  I  should  never  see  them 
again  on  this  earth. 

CHAPTER    IV. 
MY  NATIVE  LAND,  FAREWELL  ! 

MANY  of  the  saints  in  the  Norwich  Conference 
were  expecting  to  go  to  the  "Valleys"  the  ap- 
proaching season.  We  also  caught  the  spirit  of 
gathering  and  felt  that  England  was  no  longer  our 
home ;  but  this  thought  brought  with  it  a  severe 
pang ;  we  tried  although  vainly  to  dismiss  it,and  when 
Prest.  Spencer  told  us  of  his  release  from  his  mission 
to  return  to  Utah,  adding  that  he  did  not  wish  .to 
leave  us  behind,  we  determined  by  the  help  of  the 
Lord  to  follow  his  counsel.  My  husband  went 
and  advised  our  parents  of  the  intended  departure ; 
and  they,  although  believing  us  deluded,  yet  gave 
us  their  blessing  and  their  prayers,  with  many  sub- 
stantial proofs  of  their  undying  affection. 

Our  last  Sabbath  in  England  having  arrived,  Miss 
Martha  Harris,  a  very  dear  sister,  was  spending  the 
day  with  us.  To  divert  our  minds  from  the  thoughts 
of  a  separation,  my  husband  opened  the  parcel  of 
Millennial  Stars  that  had  been  received  the  previous 
day  from  Liverpool,  and  to  our  astonishment  found 
the  revelation  on  Celestial  Marriage.  We  had  a 
testimony  that  it  was  from  God,  and  rejoiced  that 
He  had  indeed  restored  the  Gospel  as  in  former  dis- 
pensations. No  principle  or  doctrine  of  our  faith 
had  been  received  by  us  with  so  much  joy,  as  this 


MY  NATIVE  LAND,    FAREWELL  !  29 


heaven-born  revelation.  The  testimony  we  had  re- 
ceived of  its  divine  origin,  was  a  great  blessing  to  us 
and  others  ;  for  we  had  frequent  opportunities,  on 
board  the  vessel,  of  defending  it  to  those  who,  not 
understanding  it,  were  opposed. 

The  Norwich  saints  were  notified  to  go  in  the  first 
vessel  which  would  sail  that  season  ;  and  as  Prest. 
Spencer  and  some  others  could  not  be  ready  until 
the  second  vessel  sailed,  my  husband  was  appointed 
to  take  charge  of  the  first  company  until  an  or- 
ganization was  effected  on  board  the  vessel,  when 
Elder  Moses  Clawson,  assisted  by  Elders  George 
Kendall  and  Thos.  Pugh  were  appointed  to  preside. 
On  the  ninth  day  of  January,  1853,  we  left  Norwich, 
after  a  stay  of  only  seven  months,  during  which 
time  we  witnessed  a  great  outpouring  of  the  spirit  of 
God  on  priesthood  and  members,  young  and  old. 
We  had  seen  a  miraculous  display  of  the  signs  fol- 
lowing those  who  believed,  had  heard  speaking  in 
tongues,  and  the  interpretation  of  the  same;  the  sick 
were  instantly  healed,  and  evil  spirits  cast  out.  We 
heard  the  brethren  and  sisters  testify  to  the  truth  of 
the  Latter-day  work ;  and  took  with  us  assurances  of 
its  truth  which  intervening  years,  under  every  vicissi- 
tude of  life,  has  not  effaced.  The  love  of  God  shed 
on  our  hearts,  had  made  them  warm  with  love  to  all 
the  saints.  We  mingled  in  their  social  gatherings, 
associated  with  them  in  their  homes,  and  received 
them  in  return ;  and  had  ample  opportunities  of  ob- 
serving the  elevating  and  refining  influence  of  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  in  the  daily  walk  and  conduct  of 
those  who  had  embraced  it.  Interwoven  with  all 
these,  are  sacredly  cherished  memories  of  our  asso- 
ciations with  Prest.  C.  V.  Spencer  and  his  gentle, 
lovely  wife,  Georgiana,  who,  alas  !  all  too  soon  for 
those  by  whom  she  was  so  much  beloved,  was  called 
to  a  better  world. 


3° 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


Inseparably  connected  with  this  happy  time,  were 
the  occasions  when  we  were  guests  under  the  hos- 
pitable roof  of  Mother  Teasdel  and  her  son,  brother 
Samuel  P,  listening  while  Sister  Teasdel  told,  among 
other  incidents  connected  with  the  commencement 
of  the  Latter-day  work  in  Norwich,  of  a  dream  in 
which  she  saw  the  man  who  would  first  bring  the 
Gospel  to  Norwich  ;  and  how,  long  afterwards,  she 
saw  and  recognized  the  same  man  on  the  street,  in 
the  person  of  Elder  Thomas  Smith  ;  and,  as  directed 
by  the  spirit,  accosted  the  stranger,  telling  him  of 
her  dream,  and  inviting  him  to  her  house  ;  thus  be- 
ing the  first  to  open  her  house  to  a  Latter-day  Saint 
Elder  in  the  Norwich  Conference.  This  may  seem 
like  digression,  but  I  could  not  leave  the  subject 
without  perpetuating  these  pleasing  memories. 

Our  journey  to  Liverpool,  and  the  incidents  of  the 
sea  voyage  are  described  in  the  poem,  entitled 
"Crossing  the  Atlantic  Ocean."  After  our  arrival 
at  New  Orleans,  we  took  passage  on  board  the 
steamer,  Rob  Roy.  Our  voyage  to  St.  Louis  was  un- 
marked by  anything  worthy  of  note.  The  season 
being  too  early  for  us  to  proceed  up  the  river,  we 
were  compelled  to  remain  in  St.  Louis  several  weeks. 
Our  stay  here  was  rendered  quite  pleasant  by  the 
kindness  of  brother  Amos  Fielding  and  family. 

Many  of  the  brethren  procured  work  at  the  differ- 
ent employments  suited  to  their  varied  abilities.  My 
husband  obtained  work  in  the  book-bindery  con- 
nected with  the  Missouri  Republican  office,  the 
money  he  thus  earned  enabling  us  to  procure  many 
little  extras,  in  addition  to  the  company  allowance. 
We  were  traveling  in  what  was  called  the  ten  pound 
company.  When  about  to  leave,  the  proprietors  of- 
fered Mr.  Cornaby  great  inducements  to  stay ;  but 
all  they  possessed  would  not  have  weighed  a  feather 
in  the  balance;  Utah  was  our  goal,  and  "On,  right 


MY  NATIVE  LAND,    FAREWELL  !  31 


on  !''  our  motto,  and  onward  we  went ;  although  re- 
peated delays,  and  travel  by  ox  teams,  did  not  afford 
a  very  rapid  means  of  transit.  While  here,  the  sec- 
ond company  of  Saints  arrived  from  England  ;  and 
we  learned  with  sincere  regret  that  sister  Spriggs  had 
died  at  Liverpool  on  her  way  to  Zion. 

We  proceeded  from  St.  Louis  to  Keokuk,  in  the 
steamer  Kate  Kearney  ;  arriving  there  late  in  the  day, 
we  were  obliged  to  shelter  for  the  night  in  a  large 
warehouse  on  the  levee,  without  any  accommodation 
but  that  afforded  by  our  luggage. 

Next  morning,  we  proceeded  to  our  camp  on  the 
brow  of  a  hill  overlooking  the  Missouri  River.  Here 
we  found  our  wagons  and  tents.  We  had  just  placed 
our  baggage  in  the  wagons;  some  were  making 
awkward  attempts  at  erecting  tents  while  others  were 
trying  to  place  the  covers  on  the  wagons,  some  of 
which  obstinately  refused  to  reach  over  at  both  ends, 
when  we  were  struck  by  a  furious  storm  of  wind  and 
rain,  accompanied  by  thunder  and  lightning  such  as 
we  had  never  heard  or  seen  before.  The  storm 
raged  with  such  fury  that  we  feared  the  wagons  would 
be  upset,  and  after  the  wind  had  subsided,  the  rain 
poured  down  incessantly  three  days  and  nights,  our 
luggage  and. bedding  becoming  thoroughly  soaked, 
and  the  camp  ground  ankle  deep  with  mud.  Under 
these  circumstances,  my  second  child  was  premature- 
ly born.  A  serious  illness  followed,  but  through  the 
mercy  of  God,  and  the  tender  care  of  my  husband,  I 
recovered.  During  our  stay  here  of  one  month, 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  oxen  and  cows  for  our 
journey,  we  became  somewhat  familiarized  with  camp 
life.  Our  introductory  storm  having  ceased,  and 
our  clothes  and  bedding  dried,  we  enjoyed  the  gen- 
ial sunshine,  and  the  beauties  of  nature.  The  sur- 
rounding country  was  delightful  in  the  habiliments 
of  spring.  Wild  flowers  of  great  beauty  and  variety 


32  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


were  profuse  in  the  woods.  Many  of  the  brethren 
obtained  employment.  Our  Scandinavian  brethren, 
with  characteristic  industry  and  forethought,  pur- 
chased trees  from  the  owners  of  the  neighboring  for- 
ests, from  which  they  manufactured  a  variety  of  use- 
ful articles.  Time  passed  swiftly.  All  were  busy 
preparing  for  the  journey. 

It  was  three  years,  to  a  day,  from  that  memorable 
first  of  June  before  mentioned,  when  our  oxen  hav- 
ing arrived,  we  left  Keokuk.  I  wish  I  could  afford 
a  page  to  a  description  of  our  starting.  The  oxen 
were  wild,  and  getting  them  yoked  was  the  most 
laughable  sight  I  had  ever  witnessed ;  everybody 
giving  orders,  and  nobody  knowing  how  to  carry 
them  out.  If  the  men  had  not  been  saints,  there 
would  doubtless  have  been  much  profane  language 
used;  but  the  oxen,  not  understanding  "English," 
did  just  as  well  without  it.  But  it  did  seem  so  truly 
comical  to  witness  the  bewildered  look  of  some  inno- 
cent brother,  who,  after  having  labored  an  hour  or 
more  to  get  '-'Bright"  secured  to  one  end  of  the 
yoke,  would  hold  the  other  end  aloft,  trying  to 
persuade  "Buck"  to  come  under,  only  to  see 
"Bright"  careering  across  the  country,  the  yoke 
lashing  the  air,  and  he  not  even  giving  a  hint  as  to 
when  he  intended  to  stop. 

Through  the  previous  exertions  and  skill  of  our 
never-to-be-forgotten  friend,  William  B.  Woods,  our 
team  was  made  somewhat  tractable ;  and  was  hitched 
up  for  the  start  with  very  little  trouble.  Imagine, 
if  you  can,  the  operation  of  starting  over  one  hun- 
dred ox  teams,  chiefly  by  men  who  had  never  done 
anything  of  the  kind  before ;  but  through  the  con- 
trolling power  and  ability  of  Captain  Cyrus  H. 
Wheelock,  even  this  was  accomplished  ;  and  we  per- 
formed the  journey  of  four  hundred  miles  from  Keo- 
kuk to  Council  Bluffs,  in  one  month  and  two  'days, 


MY  NATIVE  LAND,    FAREWELL  !  33 


reaching  there  the  third  of  July.  Our  road  lay 
through  a  broken,  sparsely  settled  country,  much  of 
the  way  through  clearings  in  the  woods,  the  stumps 
of  the  trees  still  standing,  and  sometimes  through 
swamps  and  morasses ;  but  by  the  blessing  of  God, 
we  performed  the  journey  with  but  trifling  accidents. 
At  Council  Bluffs  we  stayed  a  few  days  to  make  final 
preparations  for  our  long,  long  journey  across  the 
plains.  There  we  made  our  first  acquaintance  with 
Indians,  purchasing  some  moccasins  of  them,  which 
we  found  much  more  comfortable  than  shoes  in  dry 
weather. 

We  were  enabled,  by  selling  some  of  our  surplus 
clothing,  to  provide  ourselves  with  many  little  com- 
forts, and  even  what  were  then  considered  luxur- 
ies. Among  other  things,  we  purchased  a  good  supply 
of  groceries,  an  extra  tent  and  some  cooking  utensils, 
also  a  lamp  and  oil,  which  we  used  to  good  advan- 
tage when  the  train  halted  a  few  days  for  repairs,  &c.  j 
My  husband  also  procured  a  good  outfit  of  fishing 
tackle,  and  being  an  expert  angler,  supplied  our 
"  table  "  with  wholesome  fish.  By  a  little  forethought 
and  management,  the  daily  routine  of  camp  life  was 
by  no  means  irksome.  I  often  think  that  the  weeks 
spent  crossing  the  plains  were  as  full  of  instruction 
and  interest  as  any  part  of  our  lives.  Admiring  na- 
ture, we  had  abundant  opportunities  of  beholding  its 
varied  beauties.  Especially  did  we  admire  the  flow- 
ers,— growing  in  some  places  in  great  profusion — 
handfuls  of  which  daily  adorned  the  wagon  and  de- 
lighted our  child,  which  was  in  the  care  of  a  sister, 
who  was  too  feeble  to  walk.  The  delicious  wild 
fruits  met  with  at  different  stages  of  the  journey  were 
much  relished,  and  afforded  a  wholesome  variety  to 
our  diet. 

In  consequence  of  the  wagons  being  heavily  loaded, 
all  who  were  able,  walked.      It  was  a  very  interesting 


34  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


sight  each  morning  to  see  our  company  break  camp; 
the  long  train  of  wagons  stretching  itself  out  like  a 
huge  snake  and  winding  its  slow  length  along  the 
boundless  prairies.  Those  on  foot  starting  ahead  of 
the  train,  presented  a  motley  appearance  in  their 
travel-worn  dress,  walking  in  groups,  chatting,  sing- 
ing, laughing,  talking  principles  and  politics,  or 
passing  jokes  as  the  case  might  be,  all  care  being  left 
behind.  Some  might  be  seen  rambling  on  the 
prairies  gathering  flowers,  others  picking  berries; 
sometimes  an  inviting  stream  would  present  itself, 
when  fishing  tackle  would  be  in  requisition.  Those 
who  were  expert  at  hunting  would  go  in  quest  of 
game,  and  would  sometimes  supply  our  gamp  with 
fresh  meat. 

At  night,  when  we  camped,  the  wagons  were 
drawn  up  in  a  circle  for  protection,  also  forming  a 
corral  into  which  the  oxen  could  be  driven  to  be 
yoked.  The  teams,  being  unyoked,  were  driven  to 
grass  by  the  herdsmen,  who  guarded  them  through 
the  night.  -Our  camp  presented  a  busy  scene,  some 
gathering  fuel  (which  consisted  mostly  of  either 
"buffalo  chips,"  or  sage  brush,)  some  bringing  wa- 
ter, Bothers  building  fires  and  preparing  supper,  or 
baking  bread  for  next  day's  journey.  After  supper, 
groups  could  be  seen  around  the  camp  fires,  singing 
the  songs  of  Zion,  talking  of  bygone  days,  or  the 
hopes  of  the  future,  until  the  bugle  call  for  prayers, 
when  all  except  the  guards  (for  we  watched  as  well 
as  prayed)  retired  to  rest. 

After  proceeding  some  distance,  and  grass  becom- 
ing scarce,  it  was  deemed  wisdom  to  divide  our 
train,  and  it  fell  to  our  lot  to  travel  the  remainder  of 
the  way  under  the  captaincy  of  Elder .  George  Ken- 
dall, our  associations  with  whom  have  always  been 
remembered  with  pleasure. 

While  traveling  along  the   Platte  river,   through 


MY  NATIVE  LAND,    FAREWELL  !  35 


the  Sioux  Indian  country,  buffalo  were  abundant. 
We  sometimes  saw  immense  herds  of  them,  a  short 
distance  from  our  line  of  travel.  Here  we  often  met 
with  Sioux  Indians,  who  were  quite  friendly,  and  on 
one  occasion,  we  camped  near  one  of  their  villages, 
where  we  held  a  big  pow-wow,  smoked  the  pipe  of 
peace,  and  paid  them  a  tribute  of  sugar  and  flour  for 
the  privilege  of  traveling  through  their  domain.  We 
also  purchased  from  them  buffalo  robes  and  dried 
meat.  Reaching  Fort  Laramie,  we  made  a  short 
halt  when  many  Indians  visited  our  camp;  the 
squaws  being  particularly  anxious  to  exchange  their 
commodities  for  groceries,  &c.  I  remember  one 
squavf  in  particular,  who  took  quite  an  interest  in 
our  dear  little  daughter;  measured  her  foot,  and  next 
day  returned  with  a  very  tastily  embroidered  pair  of 
moccasins  which  she  placed  upon  her  feet,  refusing 
to  take  anything  in  payment. 

During  our  journey  we  passed  and  repassed  other 
companies  of  saints  traveling  to  the  "valleys,"  and 
we  had  an  opportunity  of  exchanging  news.  On 
one  of  these  occasions,  we  heard  with  deep  sorrow 
of  the  death  of  sister  Martha  Harris. 

As  we  neared  the  Pacific  Springs,  the  pleasurable 
part  of  our  journey  came  to  an  end  ;  provisions  be- 
came scarce,  the  grass  failed,  and  many  of  our  oxen 
died;  some  wagons  were  abandoned,  and  the  con- 
tents cached,  or  buried  ;  we  also  encountered  some 
heavy  snow  storms  at  the  Springs,  when  our  buffalo 
robes  came  in  requisition. 

When  at  length,  from  the  top  of  the  Little  Moun- 
tain, we  caught  a  first  glimpse  of  the  "Valley,"  our 
delight  and  gratitude  found  vent  in  tears  of  un- 
feigned joy,  and  when,  on  the  morning  of  the  i2th 
of  October,  1853,  we  emerged  from  the  mouth  of 
Emigration  Canyon  and  beheld  the  "City  of  the 
Saints,"  we  felt  more  than  repaid  for  the  nine  months 


36  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


of  travel,  and  all  the  hardships  we  had  endured.  We 
seemed  to  inhale  the  restful  spirit  of  the  beautiful 
city,  spread  out  in  peaceful  loveliness  before  us.  The 
neat  adobie  houses  with  their  trim  gardens,  the 
crystal  streams  coursing  along  the  sidewalks,  giving 
life  to  avenues  of  shade  trees,  all  aglow  with  the 
lovely  tints  of  autumn,  presented  a  picture  that  is 
indelibly  fixed  upon  our  minds,  and  which  the  great- 
er magnificence  of  the  Salt  Lake  City  of  to-day  has 
not  the  power  to  efface.  Everything  we  saw  so  far 
surpassed  our  most  sanguine  expectations,  that  we 
could  say,  in  the  language  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba, 
"The  half  was  not  told  me." 

With  these  feelings  we  entered  Salt  Lake  City,  and 
encamped  on  Union  Square  ;  thankful  that  our  lives 
had  been  preserved,  and  that  now  we  could  rest  after 
our  long  journey ;  for  I  had  walked  the  entire  dis- 
tance from  Council  Bluffs — more  than  one  thousand 
miles  ! 


CHAPTER  V. 
MANNA  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

AS  our  camp  life  was  over,  my  husband  went  in 
search  of  a  house,  and  rented  one  near  where 
he  had  obtained  employment, in  the  Eighth  ward.  Here 
we  met  with  Bishop  Everett  and  wife,  very  kind 
persons,  who  enquired  into  our  circumstances,  and 
offered  any  assistance  we  might  require.  Everybody 
seemed  so  kind  that  we  thought  of  the  promise  of 
the  Savior,  "There  is  no  man  that  hath  left  house, 
or  brethren,  or  sisters,  or  father,  or  mother,  or  wife, 
or  children,  or  lands,  for  my  sake,  and  the  gospel's, 
but  he  shall  receive  a  hundred  fold  now  in  this  time; 
houses,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  and  mothers,  and 
children,  and  lands,  with  persecutions;  and  in  the 
world  to  come,  eternal  life." 


MANNA  IN  THE   WILDERNESS.  37 


We  remained  in  this  ward  only  three  weeks,  Mr. 
Cornaby  having  engaged  to  teach  school  in  the  Seven- 
teenth ward.  We  rented  a  log  cabin,  opposite  the 
schoolhouse,  soon  making  the  acquaintance  of  Bish- 
op Joseph  L.  Heywood  and  his  amiable  family, 
with  whom  a  friendship  was  begun  which  has  never 
hince  been  broken. 

Another  pleasant  memory  of  this  time  was  the 
kindness  of  Judge  Elias  Smith — one  of  the  school 
trustees — cheering  us  occasionally  with  a  friendly 
call,  or  inviting  us  to  his  house;  sometimes  paying 
the  teacher  with  his  own  means,  when  other  funds 
were  not  on  hand. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1854,  Bishop  Heywood 
organized  a  Sunday  School,  and  appointed  my  hus- 
band superintendent.  We  felt  so  much  at  home  in 
this  ward,  that  we  decided  to  settle  here,  and 
bought  for  the  purpose  a  building  lot  oa  Arsenal 
Hill,  a  beautiful  site  that  overlooked  the  city  and  al- 
most the  entire  valley. 

Besides  teaching  school,  my  husband  was  secretary 
for  the  United  States  Marshal,  which  enabled  us  to 
live  comfortably,  and  our  home  being  near  the  Tab- 
ernacle, we  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  attending  meet- 
ing there. 

On  the  29111  of  August,  1854,  our  son,  whom  we 
named  Samuel  Last,  was  born  in  the  little  log  cabin. 
My  husband  was  still  teaching  school,  and  I  can 
remember  what  numbers  of  the  scholars  came  to  see 
our  new  baby — some  bringing  presents  for  him.  I 
hope  some  of  them  will  read  this,  and  learn  how 
pleasant  it  is  to  me  to  think  of  them  after  a  lapse  of 
twenty-six  years. 

In  the  spring  of  1855,  we  built  a  house,  and  in  July 
moved  into  it.  Those  who  have  passed  through  a  sim- 
ilar experience  can  imagine,  better  than  I  can  describe, 
our  feelings  the  first  day  we  spent  under  our  own  roof. 


•jg  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


The  small  harvest  of  this  year,  (caused  by  the  rav- 
ages of  grasshoppers,)  brought  to  the  people  fears  of 
famine,  which  in  the  fall  began  to  be  felt.  We 
tried  to  prepare  for  the  impending  scarcity;  but 
building  our  house  prevented  us  doing  so.  This 
made  us  feel  anxious,  but  we  knew  that  the  Lord  had 
promised  to  provide  ;  and  casting  our  care  upon  Him, 
tried,  (as  we  were  not  actually  suffering,)  not  to  look 
into  the  future. 

In  October,  our  children  were  taken  very  sick,  and, 
not  being  acquainted  with  the  diseases  of  this  country, 
we  did  not  know  how  to  treat  them,  but  here  the 
experience  and  kindly  aid  of  Sister  S.  M.  Hey  wood 
were  invaluable  to  us. 

All  this  time  the  famine  was  creeping  on,  making 
itself  felt.     It  was  a  gloomy  time,   even   bread  be 
coming  scarce.     Flour  was  ten  dollars  per  hundred 
pounds,  and  difficult  to  obtain  at  that  price. 

My  husband's  school  term  being  ended,  he  pre- 
sented his  bills,  but  could  obtain  very  little  flour. 
He  took  a  bill  of  six  dollars  to  Prest.  Geo.  A.  Smith, 
two  of  whose  children  had  attended  school  :  but 
did  so  rather  reluctantly,  knowing  his  incessant 
public  labors. 

But  with  great  gravity,  Bro.  Smith  told  him  he 
had  nothing  to  pay  him  in  but  flour,  adding  that  he 
would  be  compelled  to  charge  six  dollars  per  hundred. 
Watching  Mr.  Cornaby's  countenance,  he  seemed 
much  amused  at  the  look  of  surprise  and  wonder  de- 
picted there. 

This  unexpected  and  providential  supply,  used 
.with  economy,  lasted  us  the  greater  part  of  the  winter. 

During  this  time  of  scarcity,  our  beloved  president, 
Brigham  Young,  encouraged  the  saints  to  faithfulness 
and  dependence  on  our  Father  in  Heaven  ;  promising 
them  in  the  name  of  Israel's  God,  that  none  who 
would  live  their  religion  should  die  of  starvation. 


MANNA  IN  THE   WILDERNESS.  39 


We  believed  this,  and  in  the  weeks  following, 
found  that  our  daily  bread  was  given  us;  though 
sometimes  in  a  manner  as  miraculous  as  the  feeding 
of  Elijah  by  the  ravens. 

In  March  1856,  we  commenced  digging  roots  on 
the  bottom  lands  of  the  Fourth  and  Fifth  Wards. 

These  roots  were  a  species  of  wild  artichoke,  and 
about  the  size  and  shape  of  a  person's  finger.  Their 
whereabouts  was  indicated  by  a  small  withered  spray, 
resembling  dried  mint.  They  tasted  much  like  the 
cultivated  artichoke,  and  were  very  wholesome. 
When  boiled,  and  served  with  thickened  milk  or 
gravy,  they  were  quite  palatable,  and  we  often  made 
a  meal  of  them,  (without  the  accompaniments  of 
meat  or  bread,)  with  thankful  hearts.  Sometimes 
visiting  and  receiving  company  on  this  fare,  we 
enjoyed  each  other's  society,  and  "talked  of  the  good 
time  coming." 

On  the  twenty-first  of  March,  we  passed  through 
the  Endowment  House.  Those  who  have  enjoyed 
the  privilege,  can  appreciate  the  blessing  it  was  to  us 
at  this  time.  Having  left  all  for  the  gospel's  sake,  we 
were  repaid  a  hundred  fold.  I  recollect  how  happy  we 
felt  next  morning,  as  we  joined  a  company  going  to 
dig  roots.  The  warm  rays  of  the  spring  sun  seemed 
to  diffuse  gladness  all  around  ;  everybody  seemed 
cheerful ;  I  was  as  free  from  care  as  the  birds ;  and 
like  them,  wanted  to  praise  the  Creator  for  all  His 
goodness. 

In  April,  Thomas  Callister,  (by  this  time  Bishop 
of  the  Seventeenth  Ward)  organized  a  company  to  go 
to  Provo,  to  catch  fish  for  the  ward.  My  husband 
was  among  the  men  chosen  for  this  expedition.  It 
proved  a  success,  and  was  a  great  help  to  me  as  well 
as  to  the  people  generally.  Measures  were  also  ad- 
opted by  all  the  Bishops  to  ascertain  who  had  more 
than  sufficient  breadstuff  to  last  until  harvest ;  many 


4O  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


families  who  had  a  surplus,  observed  the  most  rigid 
economy,  placing  themselves  on  half  rations,  and 
some,  even  on  quarter  rations,  to  help  out  those  who 
had  none.  The  surplus  was  disbursed  by  the  Bishops 
to  those  in  the  greatest  need,  the  owners  being  amply 
remunerated.  Although  many  were  reduced  to  great 
extremities,  no  one  died  of  starvation.  Before  leaving, 
he  planted  a  few  early  garden  seeds  ;  others  did  the 
same,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  Lord  blessed  the  people  in 
this  respect.  Even  the  early  salads  gave  hope,  until 
more  substantial  vegetables  would  be  ready.  I  re- 
member how  contented  I  felt,  from  day  to  day,  if  only 
my  children  had  enough  to  satisfy  their  need  ;  but  it 
sometimes  happened  that  the  last  morsel  was  eaten, 
with  no  prospect  of  another  meal  before  us.  The 
children,  sometimes  hungry,  and  beginning  to  under- 
stand the  value  of  prayer,  would  coax  me  to  pray  to 
our  Father  in  Heaven  to  send  us  bread  ;  and  I,  feel 
ing  most  anxious  that  my  darlings  should  not  lose 
confidence  in  prayer,  would  plead  with  great  earn- 
estness, they  lisping  the  words  after  me.  Many  times 
the  prayer  was  answered  almost  immediately,  as  the 
following  instances  will  show. 

It  was  evening,  I  was  just  preparing  the  little  ones 
for  bed,  when  my  daughter,  Edith,  asked  what  we 
should  do  for  breakfast.  I  told  her  not  to  think 
about  breakfast,  as  she  had  had  supper,  and  was  not 
hungry  then  ;  but  she  reasoned  that  we  had  better  tell 
the  Lord  that  we  had  nothing  for  breakfast.  So 
kneeling  down  with  them,  one  on  either  side  of  me, 
I  told  our  Father  what  we  needed,  and  was  just 
putting  them  to  bed  when  a  knock  summoned  me  to 
the  door.  A  neighbor  came  in  with  a  large  parcel 
in  her  arms  and  said  that  she  wanted  to  write  a  letter 
to  her  husband,  then  on  a  mission  to  the  Sandwich 
Islands;  not  having  writing  materials,  she  had  come 
to  see  if  I  could  supply  her  with  some  and  offered, 


MANNA  IN  THE   WILDERNESS.  41 


with  apologies,  a  loaf  of  bread    in   payment.     I  sup- 
plied sister  P with  what  she   wanted,    and   she 

departed,    satisfied    and    pleased,    leaving   me   more 
thankful  than  words  can  describe. 

Oh,  what  a  loaf  of  bread  that  was,  so  large  and 
light !  The  joy  of  the  dear  children  knew  no  bounds. 
We  thanked  God,  knowing  that  for  many  days  we 
should  rot  be  hurgry. 

I  trust  to  be  forgiven  for  adding  another  circum- 
stance to  that  just  related.  One  morning  having,  as 
usual,  attended  to  family  praver,  in  which,  with 
greater  significance  than  is  often  used,  we  asked, 
|i  "  give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread  ;"  and  having  eaten 
II  a  rather  scanty  breakfast — every  morsel  we  had  in 
the  house — Edith  was  wondering  what  we  should 
have  for  dinner,  and  why  'Pa  did  not  send  us 
some  fish.  I,  too,  was  anxious,  not  having  heard 
from  Provo  for  some  days  ;  so  telling  my  darlings 
i  would  go  and  see  if  sister  Ellen  Jackson,  (whose  hus- 
band was  also  one  of  the  fishing  party,)  had  heard 
any  news,  I  started  off.  Sister  Jackson  had  not  heard 
from  the  fishery  ;  but  was  quite  cheerful,  and  telling 
me  how  well  her  garden  was  growing,  added  that  the 
radishes  were  fit  for  use,  and  insisted  that  I  must  have 
some.  It  was  good  to  see  something  to  eat  ;  and, 
quite  pleased,  I  bade  her  good  morning.  Passing, 
on  my  way,  the  house  of  brother  Charles  Gray, 
sister  Gray  asked  me  where  I  had  got  such  fine 
radishes.  I  told  her,  and  offered  to  divide  with  her, 
to  which  she  agreed,  providing  I  would  take  in  ex- 
change some  lettuce  and  cress,  of  which  she  had 
plenty.  She  filled  a  pan  with  these  ;  and  I  hurried 
away  thinking  how  pleased  my  children  would  be,  if 
only  we  had  bread  to  eat  with  them.  As  I  was 
passing  brother  Simon  Baker's  house,  sister  Baker 
saw  me,  and  invited  me  in.  I  told  her  I  had  left  my 
children,  and  could  not  stop.  She  then  asked  me 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


where  I  had  got  such  nice  green  stuff,  and  when  I 
told  her,  and  offered  her  some,  she  replied,  "if  I 
would  exchange  some  for  butter,  she  would  be  glad." 
She  then  gave  me  a  piece  of  nice  fresh  butter,  which 
had  just  come  from  their  dairy  on  the  Jordan  ;  and 
also  a  large  slice  of  cheese.  If  I  only  had  bread,  I 
thought,  how  good  these  would  be  !  Just  then  my 
eyes  rested  upon  a  large  vessel  full  of  broken  bread. 
Sister  Baker,  seeing  I  had  noticed  it,  told  me  its 
history.  It  had  been  sent  the  day  before,  in  a  sack, 
to  the  canyon,  where  her  husband  had  a  number  of 
men  working.  On  the  way  it  had  fallen  from  the 
wagon,  and  been  crushed  under  the  wheel.  She  did 
not  know  what  to  do  with  it,  remarking  that  she 
would  offer  me  some  of  it  but  feared  I  would  feel 
insulted,  although  assuring  me  it  was  perfectly  clean. 
I  accepted  her  offer,  when,  filling  a  large  pan,  she 
sent  her  daughter  home  with  me  to  carry  it. 

The  children  were  watching  for  my  return  ;  and 
when  they  saw  the  bread,  they  clapped  their  hands 
with  delight.  Bread,  butter,  cheese,  radishes,  lettuce 
and  cress  !  What  a  dinner  we  had  that  day  !  Elijah 
never  enjoyed  the  dinner  the  ravens  brought  him, 
more  than  I  did  that  meal ;  nor  more  fully  understood 
that  a  kind  Providence  had  furnished  it.  I  could  re- 
late many  other  circumstances  of  a  like  nature,  and 
even  more  remarkable — how  wheat  had  been  increas- 
ed in  the  bin,  and  flour  in  the  sack — but  these  in- 
stances will  suffice  to  illustrate  the  providences  of 
those  times. 

In  June,  the  early  vegetables  helped  our  scanty 
supply  of  bread ;  and  in  July  my  husband  returned, 
well  and  hearty,  after  nearly  three  month's  absence. 
He  had  much  to  tell  of  his  experience  during  those 
three  months  ;  having  lived  almost  entirely  on  fish  ; 
the  standing  dish  for  the  camp  being  fish  soup  (most- 
ly suckers)  made  in  a  large  iron  pot,  to  which  a  lit- 


PIONEER  DIFFICULTIES.  43 


tie  bran,  or  sometimes  shorts,  was  added,  the  latter 
quite  sparingly,  as  it  could  only  be  obtained  as  a 
favor  at  ten  cents  per  pound.  As  this  compound 
settled  to  the  bottom,  each  one  would  take  a  dipper 
and  give  it  a  vigorous  stir,  to  enable  him  to  obtain 
his  share  of  the  floating  particles.  To  this  would 
sometimes  be  added  a  mess  of  boiled  greens,  gathered 
from  the  banks  of  the  river.  Very  rarely,  however, 
a  few  pounds  of  flour  or  corn  meal  were  obtained  and 
added  to  the  repast. 

The  crops  this  season  were  early  and  plentiful ; 
and  on  the  twenty-fourth  of  July,  my  husband  pur- 
chased a  bushel  of  new  wheat,  and  had  it  made  into 
Graham  flour.  From  this  I  made  the  first  loaf  of 
bread  since  the  early  part  of  February;  and  we  had 
the  assurance  that  the  famine  was  over. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PIONEER  DIFFICULTIES. 

ON  the  2yth  of  July,  while  rejoicing  in  the  prospect 
of  coming  plenty,  we  received  an  increase  to  our 
family,  in  the  form  of  a  lovely  infant  boy  whom  we 
named  Henry. 

During  my  husband's  stay  in  the  country,  he  had 
seen  the  advantages  of  owning  land  and  raising 
grain  for  ourselves,  without  having,  as  in  the  City, 
to  depend  upon  others.  In  a  few  weeks,  he  started 
for  Spanish  Fork  to  seek  a  new  home  ;  having  heard 
while  in  Provo,  of  the  advantages  it  offered  to  new 
settlers  ;  namely,  plenty  of  land,  with  a  good  supply 
of  water.  This  was  in  August,  1856. 

He  attended  meeting  there  on  Sunday  in  a  bowery 
(the  only  place  of  worship)  erected  on  the  public 
square.  To  his  surprise,  he  here  met  with  an  old 
friend,  with  whom  he  had  been  associated  in  the  2ist 
Quorum  of  Seventies,  in  Salt  Lake  City — William  R. 


44  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


Jones,  who  was  leading  the  choir.  Service  over, 
brother  Jones  introduced  him  to  the  members  of  the 
choir.  Shortly  after  he  becamj  a  member  of  that 
choir,  with  which  he  is  still  identified,  and  brother 
Jones  is  still  the  leader. 

During  a  period  of  twenty-four  years,  the  Spanish 
Fork  choir  has  been  faithful  in  singing  praises  to  God 
in  the  house  of  worship,  also  in  times  of  mourning  ; 
and  in  the  social  gatherings  of  the  people.  Our  de- 
parted president,  Brigham  Young,  and  also  members 
of  the  quorum  of  the  Twelve  Apostles,  have,  at  var 
ious  times,  eulogized  and  blessed  this  choir.  I 
pray  that  that  blessing  may  still  attend  it  in  the  future 
and  that  members  and  leader  may  continue  united 
and  faithful  to  the  end,  and  join  in  singing  the  songs 
which  none  but  the  redeemed  can  sing. 

Bishop  John  L.  Butler,  who  was  presiding  in  Span- 
ish Fork,  seemed  quite  anxious  that  my  husband 
should  locate  there;  offering  inducements,  and  help 
ing  him  to  select  a  building  lot.  The  Bishop's  fath- 
erly manner,  and  the  meeting  with  friends  and  kin- 
dred spirits,  turned  the  balance  in  favor  of  Spanish 
Fork  as  our  future  home. 

On  the  26th  of  October,  1856,  we  left  Salt  Lake 
City,  with  all  its  advantages,  to  "rough  it"  in  the 
country.  For  a  time  we  felt  the  change  very  much  ; 
and  especially  did  our  children,  who  would  cry  to 
be  taken  home.  Spanish  Fork  was  a  new  settlement, 
having  been  but  recently  surveyed  for  a  town  site, 
and  at  this  time,  consisted  principally  of  large  wheat 
stacks,  temporary  dwellings,  and  houses  in  course  of 
erection.  The  huge  wheat  stacks  had  a  great  attrac- 
tion for  us,  who  had  so  recently  passed  through  a 
famine. 

_  We  rented  a  house,  purchased  a  good  building 
site,  and  built  a  small  room  in  which  to  winter.  This 
had  just  been  accomplished,  when  my  husband  was 


PIONEER    DIFFICULTIES. 


taken  very  sick;  but  recovered  in  a  month  sufficient- 
ly to  take  a  journey  to  Salt  Lake  City  on  business. 
He  had  but  just  reached  his  destination,  when  un- 
fortunately he  took  a  heavy  chill  and  became  entire- 
ly prostrated  by  rheumatic  and  lung  fever.  He  was 
staying  in  the  First  Ward  with  friends,  however,  who 
kindly  cared  for  him  for  many  weeks,  by  which  act 
they  bound  our  hearts  to  them  in  gratitude.  Mean- 
while, I  had  remained  in  ignorance  of  his  sickness, 
daily  expecting  him  home, — the  letters  sent  to  in- 
form me  of  his  condition,  not  reaching  their  destina- 
tion. My  situation  all  this  time  was  by  no  means 
enviable.  The  weather  was  very  cold,  and  our  lem- 
porary  house  afforded  but  poor  protection  from  its 
severity.  Mr.  Cornaby,  expecting  to  return  in  a 
few  days,  had  left  but  little  in  store,  and  it  was  soon 
exhausted.  With  three  helpless  children,  I  had 
much  need  of  fortitude,  but  was  never  left  without  a 
resource — my  trust  being  in  Israel's  God,  who  has 
never  failed  me. 

The  recent  famine  experience  had  taught  me  econ- 
omy, and  the  little  I  could  procure  from  the  sale  of 
some  clothing,  enabled  us  to  live.  I  could  have 
made  our  condition  known,  and  have  received  help, 
but  delicacy  forbade  ;  so  I  made  the  best  of  the  sit- 
uation, exerting  myself  unceasingly  for  the  helpless 
little  ones. 

Christmas  Eve  came,  and  my  darlings,  with  child- 
ish faith,  hung  up  their  stockings,  wondering  if 
Santa  Glaus  would  fill  them.  With  aching  heart, 
which  I  concealed  from  them,  I  assured  them  they 
would  not  be  forgotten  ;  and  they  fell  asleep  with 
joyful  anticipations  for  the  morrow. 

Not  having  a  particle  of  sweetening,  I  knew  not 
what  to  do.  They  must  not,  however,  be  disap- 
pointed. I  then  thought  of  some  squashes  in  the 
house,  which  I  boiled,  then  strained  off  the  liquid. 


46  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


that,  when  simmered  a  few  hours,  made  a  sweet 
syrup.  With  this,  and  a  little  spice,  I  made  ginger- 
bread dough  which,  when  cut  into  every  conceiv- 
able variety  of  design,  and  baked  in  a  skillet,  (I  had 
no  stove,) 'filled  their  stockings  and  pleased  them 
as  much  as  would  the  most  fancy  confectionaries. 

I  sometimes  wonder  if  the  children  of  to-day  en- 
joy the  costly  Christmas  presents  of  toys  and  rich 
candies  with  which  they  are  surfeited,  more  than  my 
little  ones  did  their  gingerbread  toys,  twenty-four 
years  ago. 

At  this  time,  I  received  a  letter  from  a  friend  in 
Salt  Lake  City,  informing  me  that  if  I  wished  to  see 
my  husband  alive,  I  must  go  to  him  at  once ;  but 
the  difficulties  in  the  way  seemed  almost  insurmount- 
able. The  roads  were  nearly  impassable  for  snow. 
I  was  sixty  miles  from  Salt  Lake  City.  The  only 
regular  conveyance  was  by  mail  wagon,  once  a  week. 
On  applying  to  the  mail  carrier,  he  refused  to  take* 
me ;  giving  as  a  reason,  the  impossibility  of  a  babe 
enduring  the  cold  and  necessary  exposure  of  such  a 
journey. 

I  sought  the  aid  of  Bishop  Butler,  who  tried  to 
dissuade  me  from  taking  the  journey;  but  finding 
that  I  was  determined,  if  possible  to  go,  told  me 
that  in  a  few  days  some  ox  teams  would  go  to  Salt 
Lake  City  with  tithing  grain  ;  but  added  that  the 
journey  would  be  attended  with  much  exposure  and 
danger.-  This  delay  was  terribly  trying ;  but  I  was 
compelled  to  curb  my  impatience  as  best  I  could. 
This  was  the  time  known  as  the  Reformation  Win- 
ter. Meetings  were  frequently  held  in  private 
houses,  and  were  termed  Block  Meetings,  at  which 
the  gifts  of  the  gospel  were  much  enjoyed  such  as 
speaking  in  tongues,  interpretation,  and  prophesying. 
These  meetings  were  a  great  solace  to  me. 

New  Year's  morning  dawned,  with  the  snow  so 


PIONEER    DIFFICULTIES.  47 


deep  around  our  dwelling  that  I  could  scarcely  make 
my  way  outside.  A  meeting  would  be  held  that 
day  at  the  next  house,  on  the  same  block,  to  which  I 
wished  to  go  ;  but  found  it  would  be  impossible  to 
get  even  this  short  distance. 

While  pondering  over  this  difficulty,  brother  John 
P.  Chidester  called  to  tell  me  of  the  meeting,  offer- 
ing to  carry  the  children  if  1  wished  to  go,  adding 
that  his  wife,  Susan,  expected  us  to  dinner  after  the 
service. 

Of  course  I  went  to  the  meeting,  which  was  no 
sooner  opened,  than  the  presiding  elder,  Father 
John  M.  Chidester,  directed  his  words  to  myself; 
and  by  the  spirit  of  God,  uttered  a  prophecy  in 
which  he  told  me  that  my  husband  was  alive,  and 
that  the  crisis  of  his  sickness  was  past ;  that  he  would 
live  to  return  home  ;  and  that  for  many  years  we 
should  enjoy  each  other's  society.  I  knew"  by  the 
same  spirit,  that  what  he  said  was  true,  and  my  mind 
became  easier. 

On  the  third  day  of  January,  1857,  the  teams 
started  for  Salt  Lake  City,  and  I  with  them ;  having 
arranged  to  leave  my  two  eldest  children  in  the  care 
of  sister  Isabella  Rockhill.  The  first  day  we  traveled 
twelve  miles,  reaching  Provo  at  dark.  Greatly  to 
my  surprise,  I  met  brother  John  B.  Milner,  with 
whom  we  became  acquainted  in  crossing  the  ocean 
on  board  the  "Ellen  Maria."  He,  with  his  wife, 
made  me  welcome  for  the  night,  offering  the  best  ac- 
commodation their  house  afforded.  The  following 
night  I  spent  at  Lehi,  at  the  house  of  Elder  Robert 
Winter,  my  husband's  brother-in-law,  who  accom- 
panied me  next  day  on  the  journey. 

I  must  mention  a  very  providential  deliverance  I 
had  that  day.  We  had  to  pass  what  is  known  as  the 
"Point  of  the  Mountain" — the  divide  separating 
Utah  and  Salt  Lake  Valleys.  The  ascending  grade 


48  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


made  it  impossible  for  the  teams,  six  in  number,  to 
travel  without  doubling.  This  slow  operation  ren- 
dered it  very  tedious  sitting  so  long  in  the  wagon; 
and  I  became  so  benumbed,  that,  following  the  ad- 
vice of  the  teamster,  I  dismounted  and  walked  on, 
with  my  babe  well  wrapt  ;  but  the  piercing  wind  and 
blinding  snow  made  it  hard  work  ;  yet  necessity 
compelled  me  to  walk  fast  to  keep  from  freezing. 
This  took  me  so  far  ahead  of  the  teams  that  I  did 
not  know  what  to  do.  I  attempted  to  retrace  my 
steps,  but  was  met  by  the  wind  and  drifting  snow, 
which  I  could  not  face;  so  continued  on.  At  length 
I  l>ecame  so  exhausted,  I  thought  I  must  sit  down  ; 
but  knowing  this  would  be  death,  I  prayed  to  God 
for  help  and  waded  through  snow,  drifted  so  deep 
in  some  places  that  it  was  impossible  to  trace  the 
road.  Stupified  and  benumbed  as  1  was,  I  wandered 
into  a  ravine,  sinking  down  into  a  deep  snow-drift, 
which  nearly  covered  me. 

I  had  just  enough  conciousness  to  wonder  whether 
my  babe  was  alive,  and  how  long  it  would  be  until 
the  teams  would  find  me,  when  a  stupor  came  over 
me,  from  which  I  was  aroused  by  a  kindly  voice, 
and  saw  a  horse's  head  quite  close.  A  man  passing 
with  a  sleigh,  had  seen  me,  and  was  trying  to  lift  me 
out;  yet  fearing  his  assistance  had  come  too  late.  He 
helped  me  into  'the  sleigh,  and  drove  to  a  house 
about  two  miles  distant.  By  the  time  the  teams 
came  up,  I  had  quite  recovered.  My  babe  was  in 
deep  sleep,  and  had  not  suffered. 

We  stayed  at  Draperville  that  night.  Next  day. 
Mr.  Winter  went  ahead  of  the  teams,  to  inform  my 
husband  of  my  coming,  and  sent  a  sleigh  to  meet 
me. 

I  found  him  very  sick,  but  the  worst  was  over ; 
and  in  six  weeks  from  that  time  he  was  sufficiently 
convalescent  to  return.  On  reaching  home,  we 


PIONEER    DIFFICULTIES.  49 


found  the  children  all  right.     They  had   been  well 
cared  for  in  our  absence. 

Spring  had  set  in  ;  my  husband,  as  soon  as  able, 
taught  the  Ward  school ;  we  spent  the  summer  very 
comfortably,  and  began  to  enjoy  country  life. 

In  November  of  this  year,  our  beloved  Henry  was 
taken  away  from  us  by  death.  This  was  a  great 
shock,  but  we  were  taught  submission  to  the  will  of 
Him  who  had  given,  and  had  the  right  to  take  away. 

As  the  winter  approached,  considerable  suffering 
for  want  of  clothing  was  felt  among  the  people,  as 
there  were  no  stores,  and  Johnston's  Army,  now  on 
our  borders,  cut  off  all  chances  of  supplies  from  the 
East.  Many  of  the  brethren  having  to  endure  the 
severity  of  the  winter  in  the  mountains,  scantily  clad, 
guarding  their  homes  and  families  from  an  invading 
army,  the  sisters  with  true  devotion  supplied  their 
wants  from  their  own  scanty  wardrobes,  in  many  in- 
stances converting  their  shawls  into  overshirts,  and  j 
carpets  into  pantaloons  !  In  those  days  a  buckskin  j 
suit  was  something  to  be  proud  of. 

In  the  spring  of  1858,  the  "  Move  "  commenced  ; 
when  all  the  people   living  north   of  Utah  County,    : 
removed  south.     This   made   our  little  town  quite   | 
lively.     Several   families    encamped    upon   our    lot,    j 
constructing  temporary  shelter  for  themselves.     The    j 
government,  having  been  misled  by  mischief-makers,    ' 
thought  it  had  made  a  mistake  ;  so  sent  commissioners   < 
to  Utah  to  find  out  what   was   the   matter  with   the   | 
Mormons.      On    inquiry,    it    was   found    they    were    j 
"  right  side  up,  "  so  they  proposed  to  forgive  us  if  we 
asked  their  pardon  for  keeping  them  out  in  the  cold 
all  winter,  which  we  did  with  a  very  good  grace,  they 
promising  to  be  quite  peaceable  if  we  would  let  them 
come  in.     The  army   entered  our  peaceful  valleys 
and  encamped  at  Fairfield,  not  as  an  invading  force, 
but  restricted  and  shorn  of  its  power ;  bringing  with 


5° 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


it,  money,  clothing,  provisions  and  supplies  of  almost 
every  description,  which  were  placed  within  easy 
access  of  the  people.  Thus  the  army  which  threat- 
ened destruction  to  us  as  a  people,  like  so  many  of 
the  efforts  of  our  enemies  to  destroy  us,  only  proved 
a  blessing  in  disguise,  and  the  wrath  of  man  was 
made  to  praise  the  Lord.  In  July,  the  people  re- 
turned to  their  homes  in  peace.  We  prospered  tem- 
porally, and  enjoyed  the  blessings  of  life  as  well  as 
the  consolations  of  our  holy  religion. 

In  January,  1859,  our  third  son  was  born,  whom 
we  named  Walter.  This  sweet  babe  only  gladdened 
our  home  five  months  ;  then,  after  a  few  hours'  sick- 
ness, the  first  his  short  life  had  known,  passed  away 
June  Qth. 

At  the  time  of  his  death  I  was  prostrated  by 
rheumatic  fever,  and  unable  to  wait  upon  him ;  but 
we  had  plenty  of  kind  friends  who  were  ready  to  help 
in  this  time  of  need.  My  lameness  continuing,  I 
followed  the  counsel  of  bishop  Butler,  was  baptized 
for  my  health,  and  was  soon  entirely  healed,  giving 
glory  to  God  for  His  mercy  toward  me. 

For  a  time  I  was  quite  disconsolate  over  this  second 
loss ;  and  felt  very  anxious  to  know  why  my  children 
had  been  taken  from  my  keeping.  I  besought  the 
Lord  very  earnestly  in  prayer;  and  one  night,  when, 
with  strong  cries  and  tears  I  had  pleaded  long,  a 
promise  came  assuring  me  I  should  know  why  my 
children  had  been  taken  away. 

The  same  night,  the  answer  to  my  petition  was 
given  to  sister  Margaret,  wife  of  brother  Chas.  W. 
Leah  of  this  place.  It  satisfied  me,  and  I  have  not 
shed  a  bitter  tear  on  their  account  since.  She  arose 
from  her  bed,  and  wrote  the  words  the  spirit  dictated; 
which  are  as  follows : 

Peace  to  thy  soul,  my  sister  dear, 
The  Spirit  gently  whispers  now, 


MIRACULOUS  HEALING.  51 


Come,  wipe  away  the  falling  tear, 
And  chase  the  sorrow  from  thy  brow. 

I  know  the  pangs  that  rend  thy  soul, 
Thy  tender  offspring  now  are  fled 
To  dwell  around  the  Savior's  throne; 
Like  stars  they'll  glitter  on  thy  head. 

The  gentle  buds  bestowed  on  thee, 
Have  gone  from  this  vain  world  of  grief, 
Their  spirits  could  no  longer  stay, 
But  they  have  found  a  sweet  relief. 

With  watchful  care  both  day  and  night 
A  tender  mother  thou  hast  been, 
Thou  shalt  be  crowned  in  endless  light 
With  all  the  graces  of  a  queen. 

May  gentle  peace  her  wings  spread  o'er 
Thy  dwelling  from  this  very  hour, 
And  give  thee  strength  the  race  to  run, 
Upheld  by  God's  almighty  power. 

CHAPTER  VII. 
MIRACULOUS    HEALING 

ON  the  tenth  day  of  April,  1860,  our  beloved  bish- 
op, John  L.  Butler,: was  taken  away  by  death. 
He  was  succeeded  by  Albert  K.  Thurber,  his  first 
counsellor.  Geo.  W.  Wilkins,  'his  second  counsellor, 
continued  to  act  as  counsellor  of  Bishop  Thurber, 
and  during  the  latter's  absence  on  a  mission  to  Eng- 
land, presided  over  the  ward.  He  has  been  a  near 
neighbor  twenty-four  years,  and  a  true  friend  in  our 
joys  and  sorrows. 

The  first  of  July  of  this  year  our  hearts  were  cheered 
by  another  precious  gift,  our  daughter  Mary  being 
born. 


52 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


The  following  three  years  were  noted  only  for  the 
peace  and  happiness  they  brought  us.  The  blessing 
of  the  Lord  attended  us  and  all  we  did,  seemed  to 
prosper.  I  have  often  thought  that  the  storm  tossed 
mariner  could  not  enjoy  a  safe  haven  of  rest,  more 
than  we  did  those  years  of  calm  and  sunshine.  During 
that  time  we  had  no  sickness  in  our  family,  and  the 
trials  and  sorrows  of  the  past  had  been  a  great  bless- 
ing to  us  in  enabling  us  to  appreciate  the  present. 
Our  children  were  affectionate  and  obedient,  our 
baby  Mary  was  a  real  sunbeam,  and  our  cup  of  happi- 
ness seemed  full. 

On  the  4th  of  November,  1863,  another  daughter 
was  born  to  us.  She  was  a  fine  healthy  babe,  and 
no  words  could  describe  the  joy  of  our  household  at 
this  event. 

At  this  time  the  war  between  the  North  and  South 
was  raging,  and  the  papers  were  full  of  its  horrors. 
My  husband,  knowing  how  apt  I  was  to  sympathize 
in  such  calamities,  avoided  any  allusion  to  it ;  but 
one  day  a  neighbor  inadvertantly  read  to  me  an  ac- 
count of  a  terrible  battle  that  had  just  taken  place. 
It  was  more  than  I  could  bear  in  my  then  weak  state 
and  I  took  a  chill,  which  was  followed  by  fever,  and 
for  many  weeks  a  struggle  between  life  and  death 
ensued  ;  but  when  the  bright  spring  time  came,  I  was 
able  to  leave  my  sick  room,  and  mingle  once  more 
with  my  family. 

Not  being  able  to  attend  fast  meeting,  Bishop 
Thurber  and  other  elders  came  to  my  house,  and 
we  named  our  treasure  Grace,  Emily,  Lydia.  We 
called  her  Grace,  no  other  name  seemed  so  suited 
to  our  darling. 

In  September,  when  she  was  ten  months  old,  she 
was  suddenly  taken  very  sick.  We  called  in  the 
elders,  and  administered  mild  herbs  according  to 
the  word  of  wisdom,  but  all  in  vain.  Our  Grace 


MIRACULOUS  HEALING.  53 


faded  away  like  a  sweet  autumn  flower  touched  by 
the  hand  of  death. 

On  the  2yth  of  October,  1864,  she  was  taken  from 
us.  Like  David  of  old,  while  she  was  sick,  we  wept 
and  fasted  and  prayed  ;  but  after  she  was  gone,  like 
him,  we  reasoned,  we  shall  go  to  her,  but  she  cannot 
return  to  us;  and  resolved  not  to  displease  our 
Father  in  Heaven  by  repining  over  this  loss,  we  set 
to  work  to  gather  up  the  broken  threads  of  life,  and 
to  provide  for  the  comfort  of  the  dear  ones  still  left 
us. 

A  week  after  her  death,  and  while  diligently  em- 
ployed, I  was  suddenly  prostrated  by  sickness,  the 
like  of  which  I  had  never  known.  At  first  we  hoped 
it  was  only  from  the  heavy  strain  my  system  had 
lately  endured,  and  would  soon  pass  off.  We  did  all 
that  wisdom  dictated,  and  all  that  the  love  and  af- 
fection of  my  family  and  friends  could  devise,  yet 
with  but  short  intervals,  this  debility  and  weakness 
lasted  nearly  six  years.  During  all  this  time  I  was 
only  able  to  attend  public  worship  three  times.  This 
absence  was  a  sorrow  to  me,  as  I  feared  to  lose  the 
spirit  of  God,  but  the  assurance  came,  "  My  grace  is 
sufficient  for  thee  ;  for  my  strength  is  made  perfect 
in  weakness;"  and  like  Paul  I  could  say,  "Most 
gladly,  therefore,  will  I  rather  glory  in  my  infirmities, 
that  the  power  of  Christ  may  rest  upon  me." 

Soon  after  my  sickness  commenced,  the  gift  to 
write  in  verse  was  bestowed  upon  me  in  a  much 
greater  measure  than  before,  which  was  a  great  com- 
fort, often  making  me  forget  my  sickness  and  con- 
sequent weariness.  In  the  beginning  of  the  year 
1870,  in  answer  to  prayer,  the  fainting  spells  that 
had  been  the  most  trying  symptoms  of  my  affliction 
were  removed  from  me.  I  resumed  my  duties  to 
some  extent,  and  felt  more  hopeful  than  I  had  done 
for  years  past.  The  month  of  June  having  come, 


54  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


our  garden  was  lovely  »vith  roses  and  pinks,  and  on 
the  nineteenth  day  of  this  month,  I  remember  how 
happy  I  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  these  beautiful  gifts 
of  nature.  This  day  is  more  vividly  impressed  upon 
my  mind  from  the  fact  that  it  was  the  last  time  for 
four  years,  that  I  had  the  privilege  of  walking  in  the 
garden. 

In  the  afternoon  of  that  day,  Bishop  Thurber,  ac- 
companied by  some  brethren,  called  to  see  the  silk- 
worms which  we  were  raising  from  eggs  he  brought 
from  England,  when  he  returned  from  a  mission  to 
that  country,  and  in  the  culture  of  which  he  took  a 
great  interest. 

Shortly  after  their  departure,  feeling  tired,  I  laid 
down  to  rest ;  but  on  trying  to  arise,  was  conscious  of 
a  pain  in  my  head  so  violent  that  I  could  not  lift  it 
from  the  pillow.  I  also  experiened  a  strange  feeling  at 
the  heart,  and  could  neither  move  myself,  nor  bear 
to  be  moved.  My  suffering  was  so  great,  that  I  could 
not  sleep,  but  during  the  night  I  had  a  vision. 

A  heavenly  personage  stood  by  me  and  asked  : 
"Are  you  willing  to  suffer  for  your  own  good,  and 
for  the  glory  of  God  ?"  I  answered  that  I  was.  He 
then  said  :  "Thou  shalt  come  out  of  this  sickness  un- 
scathed in  body,  sound  in  mind,  and  thy  hair  shall 
not  be  changed."  Before  leaving,  this  wonderful 
visitor  told  me  his  name,  and  also  assured  me  that 
although  the  heavens  and  earth  might  pass  away,  his 
word  should  not  pass  away.  I  believed  every  word 
he  had  spoken,  and  during  the  years  of  sickness 
which  followed,  seldom  lost  hope  of  recovery ,  al- 
.though,  through  the  weakness  of  the  body,  sometimes 
feared  I  should  not  hold  out,  but  do  not  wish  to 
AVeary  my  readers  with  a  recital  of  those  trying  years; 
for  trying  they  were,  both  to  myself  and  family,  al- 
though they  endured  it  without  repining,  and  min- 
istered unceasingly  to  my  comfort.  Our  daughter 


MIRACULOUS  HEALING.  55 


Edith  was  married  and  living  at  Salem,  three 
miles  distant,  but  was  often  with  us,  doing  all 
that  a  faithful  daughter  could  do.  Our  son  was  at- 
tending the  Brigham  Young  Academy  at  Provo  part 
of  the  time ;  so  my  Mary  became  my  constant  at- 
tendant, and  with  hired  help  we  managed  from  day 
to  day. 

Many  friends  visited  me  during  that  time,  some 
from  distant  places,  and  a  remembrance  of  their  kind- 
ness has  made  their  names  most  dear.  Foremost  of 
these  is  brother  Win.  W.  Jackson  of  American  Fork, 
with  whom  we  have  been  on  happy  terms  ever  since 
the  famine.  Substantial  and  many  were  the  proofs 
of  his  kindness,  and  that  of  his  family. 

The  ability  to  write  diverted  me  from  my  suffer- 
ing, however,  and  enabled  me  to  comfort  the  be- 
reaved and  distressed.  I  was  often  invited  to  com- 
pose for  public  meetings,  and  although  confined  to 
my  bed,  the  sentiments  I  have  penned  have  corres- 
ponded with  the  principles  taught  by  the  speakers 
on  these  occasions,  which  was  a  great  satisfaction  to 
me,  and  a  testimony  that  I  was  taught  by  the  same 
spirit. 

For  a  long  time,  Elders  Zebedee  Coltrin,  John  A. 
Lewis,  Philip  Sykes  and  others,  visited  me  almost 
daily,  administering  to  me  and  blessing  me,  which 
was  a  great  help  in  sustaining  me  through  my  sick- 
ness. 

All  the  Elders  had  the  same  testimony,  namely, 
that  I  should  recover;  but  it  was  often  a  matter  for 
wonder  that  I  was  not  restored.  We  had  to  learn 
that  the  time  for  my  healing  had  not  yet  come,  and 
that  we  had  to  wait  patiently  the  Lord's  time. 

Bishop  Thurber,  always  kindly  anxious  for  my 
recovery,  sometimes  brought  visitors  to  see  me ;  and 
on  one  occasion,  to  my  great  delight,  he  came  ac- 
companied by  Apostle  Orson  Pratt.  This  visit  was 


5  6  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


most  opportune.  My  body  was  very  much  enfeebled 
by  nearly  three  years  of  heavy  trying  sickness,  and 
my  spirit  was  languishing,  for  medical  men  had  said 
my  health  might  be  improved,  but  I  would  never  be 
able  to  walk  again.  Brother  Pratt  drew  me  into 
conversation,  in  which  I  told  him  the  sorrows  that 
were  weighing  down  my  spirit,  and  asked  why  I  had 
not  been  healed.  He  answered  my  questions  by  re- 
ferring me  to  many  passages  in  the  Old  and  New 
Testaments,  Book  of  Mormon,  and  Doctrine  and 
Covenants;  conversing  a  long  time  as  I  had  never 
heard  any  one  else. 

His  words,  though  very  gently  spoken,  came  with 
such  power  that  I  knew  they  were  the  words  of  God 
to  me ;  and  have  comforted  me  ever  since.  Before 
leaving,  he  asked  if  I  wished  him  to  administer  to 
me,  which,  of  course  I  was  most  anxious  for.  Bros. 
Pratt,  Thurbur,  and  my  husband  laid  their  hands 
upon  my  head,  when  Bro.  Pratt  blessed  me  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord.  I  am  sorry  his  words  were  not 
recorded,  although  I  remember  much  of  what  he 
said. 

He  told  me  I  should  yet  arise  from  my  bed,  and 
stand  upon  my  feet;  that  I  should  walk  into  the  dif- 
ferent rooms  of  my  house;  that  I  should  again  walk 
in  the  garden  and  enjoy  the  beauties  of  nature;  that 
I  should  visit  my  neighbors,  and  enjoy  their  society; 
that  I  should  again  walk  to  the  house  of  the  Lord, 
join  in  the  singing,  and  speak  of  the  goodness  of 
God  in  the  congregation  of  the  saints.  He  also 
confirmed  upon  me  the  gift  to  write — with  many 
other  gifts  and  blessings. 

He  said  he  knew  by  the  spirit  that  all  he  had 
promised  would  be  fulfilled,  but  did  not  know  when, 
as  the  spirit  did  not  testify — the  promised  blessing 
might  come  soon,  or  I  might  have  to  wait — mean- 
while he  counselled  us  to  continue  to  pray  and  to 


MIRACULOUS  HEALING.  57 


call  upon  the  Elders  as  often  as  wisdom  dictated. 
Brother  Thurber  remarked  that  it  seemed  worth  be- 
ing sick  as  long  as  I  had  been,  to  be  the  recipient 
of  such  blessings. 

After  Brother  Pratt  left,  his  wife,  sister  Marion  R. 
accompanied  by  sister  Thirza  Thurber,  came  and 
spent  a  few  hours  with  me,  completing  one  of  the 
most  heavenly  days  of  my  life. 

After  this,  though  my  health  did  not  materially 
improve,  my  mind  was  calm  and  happy;  and  if  at 
any  time  I  felt  like  yielding  to  doubt,  reminders 
would  come  of  the  promised  blessing.  Although  it 
was  fifteen  months  after  this  when  the  Lord  in  His 
mercy  saw  fit  to  restore  me  to  health,  the  time  of 
waiting  passed  hopefully,  knowing  as  I  did  that  the 
words  of  the  servants  of  God  would  not  fall  to  the 
ground. 

The  tedium  of  the  following  winter  was  relieved 
by  frequent  visits  from  Bro.  James  Wilkins  and  wife, 
old  time  Iriends  from  Pahreah,  who  were  spending 
the  winter  in  Spanish  Fork.  Bro.  W.  somehmes  ad- 
ministered to  me  with  much  faith,  and  always  testi- 
fied that  I  should  recover. 

In  the  spring  of  1874,  President  Brigham  Young 
taught  the  principles  of  the  United  Order.  The 
beauty  and  perfection  of  this  heavenly  order  was 
shown  to  me  with  all  the  benefits  it  would  confer 
upon  those  who  lived  in  accordance  with  it. 

In  May,  a  company  of  young  men  was  called  to 
work  at  a  saw  mill,  in  the  United  Order.  My  son 
was  among  the  chosen  ones  for  this  labor.  I  knew 
that  if  I  desired  it,  he  would  be  excused,  but  I  was 
too  glad  to  find  him  willing  to  obey  the  presiding 
priesthood,  to  raise  any  objection. 

The  first  week  of  his  absence,  I  missed  him  very 
much,  but  my  husband,  and  faithful  Mary,  did  all 
they  could  for  my  comfort. 


ij  8  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


Sunday  came,  I  felt  very  feeble  in  body  and  de- 
pressed in  mind,  when  brother  William  H.  Darger, 
our  block  teacher,  came  to  administer  the  sacrament 
to  me.  He  noticed  that  I  was  not  as  well  as  usual, 
and  asked  if  I  wished  to  be  administered  to  before 
he  left.  My  husband  anointed  my  head  with  con- 
secrated oil,  after  which  they  placed  their  hands  up- 
on my  head,  and  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember,  Bro. 
Darger  uttered  the  following  words.  "Thus  saith 
the  Lord  thy  God,  inasmuch  as  thou  hast  received 
the  United  Order,  with  all  thine  heart,  and  hast  not 
withheld  thy  son,  even  thine  only  son,  thy  faith  is 
tried,  even  as  was  Abraham's,  thou  shalt  arise_  from 
thy  bed,  and  shalt  stand  upon  thy  feet."  In'an  in- 
stant I  felt  the  healing  power  in  every  part  of  my 
body.  Several  persons  were  present  at  the  time,  who 
also  testified  to  the  power  that  attended  the  words. 

When  brother  Darger  was  leaving,  he  said  ;  "You 
will  soon  be  well."  I  replied  that  I  knew  I  should. 
Both  my  daughters  told  me  they  felt  that  the  time  for 
my  recovery  had  come.  As  it  was  late  in  the  even- 
ing I  did  not  say  much,  I  was  so  astonished  at  this 
wonderful  event,  that  I  seemed  overpowered  by  the 
greatness  of  the  blessing  that  had  come  upon  me. 

Next  morning,  when  alone  with  my  daughter  Mary, 
I  told  her  I  was  well,  and  requested  her  to  bring  my 
clothes  that  I  might  dress  and  arise  from  my  bed. 
She  wished  me  to  wait  until  her  father  came  in,  but 
I  wanted  no  one  except  her  with  me.  I  then  got  out 
of  bed,  and  with  one  hand  laid  upon  her  shoulder, 
walked  six  times  the  length  of  the  bed.  My  darling 
child  was  so  overjoyed,  that  she  exclaimed  with  up- 
lifted hands,  "  Oh  !  mother,  give  the  glory  to  God, 
give  all  the  glory  to  Him,  for  it  is  all  His  work  !" 
and  she  wept  for  joy.  My  husband  coming  in  at  the 
time,  was  astonished,  and  joined  us  in  thanksgiving 
to  God. 


CONCLUSION.  59 


Thus,  after  being  confined  to  my  bed  four  years, 
I  realized  the  promise  made  to  me  at  the  commence- 
ment of  my  sickness.  I  arose  from  my  bed  un- 
scathed in  body,  sound  in  mir.d,  and  my  hair  was 
not  changed.  Although  the  sickness  had  left  me,  I 
was  quite  feeble,  but  strength  returned  gradually.  At 
different  stages  of  my  sickness  it  had  been  deemed 
wisdom  to  call  in  medical  aid,  but  for  many  months 
previous  to  this  I  had  taken  no  medicine,  being  con- 
vinced that  it  did  me  no  good.  In  less  than  a  month 
from  the  time  of  my  recovery,  I  walked  to  the  house 
of  God,  and  attended  the  fast  meeting — thus  verify- 
ing the  words  of  Elder  Orson  Pratt.  After  the  ser- 
vice was  over,  Bishop  Geo.  D.  Snell  called  together 
some  elders  who,  with  him,  laid  their  hands  upon 
my  head,  and  blessed  me,  giving  glory  to  God  for 
my  recovery. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
CONCLUSION. 

FOR  a  few  weeks  I  did  but  little  except  enjoy  my 
happiness,  there  was  so  much  to  admire.  Every- 
thing seemed  to  have  changed  in  the  past  four 
years.  I  did  not  know  the  town,  so  many  improve- 
ments had  been  made.  I  was  like  a  child  in  my 
joy  ;  having  been  so  long  dead  to  the  world  and  the 
conventionalities  of  society,  it  seemed  like  com- 
mencing life  anew. 

My  dear  Mary  had  so  much  to  show  and  tell  me, 
that  we  were  all  in  all  to  each  other,  but  this  happi- 
ness was  too  great  to  continue  ;  already  the  hand  of 
the  destroyer  was  laid  on  our  beloved  child,  who 
again  became  sick  of  an  epileptic  malady  from 
which  she  had  suffered  before  my  recovery. 

The  attacks  were  so  frequent  as  to  threaten  her 
life  ;  but  after  a  long  period  of  agonized  suffering, 


60  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


she  was  restored  to  us,  and  in  September,  was  bap- 
tized with  her  father  and  myself,  for  a  renewal  of 
our  covenants. 

In -the  seven  months  that  followed,  her  health  im- 
proved, and  the  anxiety  we  had  felt  for  her  vanished. 
She  seemed  happy  and  grateful,  entered  into  every 
pursuit  of  life  very  heartily,  and  lived,  in  the  true 
sense  of  the  word.  There  was  so  much  earnestness 
in  all  she  said  and  did,  that  in  looking  back  to  that 
time  I  sometimes  think  she  must  have  had  a  pre- 
monition that  her  stay  here  would  be  short,  for  she 
reminded  us  of  one  having  a  journey  before  him,  for 
which  he  is  anxious  to  prepare.  She  often  conversed 
upon  the  principles  and  doctrines  of  our  faith  so  in- 
telligently that  we  were  astonished  at  the  wisdom  she 
possessed  ;  and  although  apparently  in  good  health, 
often  talked  of  death  as  if  it  had  no  terrors  for  her. 
She  was  eager  to  perform  every  duty,  and  faithfully 
attended  Sabbath  School ;  was  a  member  of  the  Re- 
lief, and  Young  Ladies'  Mutual  Improvement  Socie- 
ties; and  would  on  no  account  neglect  prayer,  either 
at  family  worship  or  in  secret. 

During  her  affliction,  which  continued  (at  inter- 
vals) for  two  and  a  half  years,  her  father  twice  took 
her  to  Salt  Lake  City  for  advice  and  change.  In 
April  she  was  again  attacked  with  the  fits,  which 
quite  prostrated  her  ;  but  she  had  suffered  so  much 
at  different  times  and  had  survived,  that  we  did  not 
think  of  death  as  being  near  •  but  on  the  morning 
of  the  first  of  May,  1876,  at  the  time  she  had  gone 
forth  many  previous  May  mornings  to  gather  flowers, 
her  spirit  took  its  flight  to  that  land  where  the  flow- 
ers never  fade. 

Bishop  Snell,  with  Patriarch  Zebedee  Coltrin  and 
others  had  their  hands  upon  her  head  at  the  moment 
of  her  departure,  and  Brother  Coltrin  dedicated  her 
to  God  to  come  forth  in  the  morning  of  the  first 


CONCLUSION.  6 1 


resurrection.  She  passed  away  with  a  smile  on  her 
countenance  indicative  of  the  joy  she  felt  in  the 
prospect  of  the  life  on  which  she  was  entering.  Her 
brother  and  sister,  ourselves,  with  several  of  her 
young  friends  were  present,  and  seemed  to  catch  the 
heavenly  benediction  of  the  departing  spirit ;  but  to 
dwell  on  this  scene  would  be  to  open  wounds  par- 
tially healed.  Her  sojourn  on  this  earth  was  only 
fifteen  years  and  ten  months. 

Sister  Mary  Ferguson,  president  of  the  Relief  So- 
ciety, and  many  other  friends  whose  names  are  ten- 
derly cherished,  were  with  us  in  this  time  of  trial. 
We  committed  her  remains  to  the  grave,  and  the 
numbers  who  attended  on  that  occasion  showed  how 
greatly  she  was  beloved.  We  were  supported  through 
this  great  trial  by  knowing  that  for  a  little  while 
only  should  we  be  separated,  and  that  her  spirit,  un- 
sullied by  sin,  had  gone  back  to  the  Father,  to 
mingle  with  those  of  the  just  made  perfect. 

After  our  return  from  the  funeral,  the  spirit  dic- 
tated the  following  verses  to  our  son,  the  only  ones 
he  ever  wrote : 

Weep  not,  dearest  Mother,  so  noble,  good  and  true, 
Your  darling  child  has  only  gone  to  prepare  a  place 

for  you ; 
Her  angel  form  to  God  has  fled,  she  could  no  longer 

stay, 
Shed  not  those  bitter  tears,  but  bless  the  happy  day. 

Dear  Father,  I  know  'tis  hard  to  lose  your  darling 
now, 

But  she  in  Heaven  is  happy,  with  bright  laurels  on 
her  brow. 

Her  earthly  stay  seemed  very  short,  her  life  was  just 
begun, 

Let  us  all  prepare  to  meet  her,  when  our  earthly  la- 
bor's done. 


62  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


In  the  fall  of  this  year  I  went  to  Salt  Lake  City, 
not  as  in  '57,  when  the  journey  occupied  four  days, 
but  this  time  by  train,  in  four  hours.  We  had  the 
privilege  of  entering  the  Endowment  House  to  work 
for  our  dead,  and  I  was  baptized  and  sealed  for 
many  of  them  ;  which  was  one  of  the  blessings  prom- 
ised me  during  my  sickness. 

On  another  occasion,  (a  very  solemn  one)  I  visited 
Salt  Lake  City,  to  attend  the  funeral  of  our  beloved 
President  Brigham  Young.  When  I  returned,  at  the 
request  of  the  editor  of  the  Young  Ladies'  Paper,  I 
contributed  some  verses,  expressing  my  thoughts  on 
that  event, 

I  have  several  times  visited  American  Fork,  where 
the  affectionate  welcome  that  has  ever  awaited  me 
from  Bishop  L.  E.  Harrington  and  family,  the  Jack- 
sons,  and  numerous  other  friends,  have  made  that 
place  and  people  dear  to  me. 

It  is  more  than  six  years  since  I  was  healed  by  the 
power  of  God ;  and  if  not  robust,  my  health  has 
been  measurably  good,  enabling  me  to  some  extent 
to  attend  to  my  domestic  duties,  and  in  the  summer 
time  to  enjoy  myself  in  the  cultivation  of  flowers, 
raising  silk,  and  assisting  in  our  apiary.  Although 
not  able  to  take  an  active  part  in  public  ..life,  I  have 
attended  meetings  occasionally,  and  have  spoken  "  of 
the  goodness  of  God  in  the  congregation  of  the  saints. " 
^  Much  of  my  life  has  seemingly  been  wasted  by 
sickness ;  still  the  years  I  had  fondly  hoped  to  have 
spent  in  active  service  in  promoting  the  Latter-day 
work,  have  not,  I  trust,  been  altogether  unfruitful,  I 
having  had  opportunities  at  home  to  testify  to  those 
who  have  visited  me,  of  the  sustaining  power  of  God. 
One  thing  I  have  learned,  and  prize  it  more  than 
gold  or  silver;  it  is  contentment  with  my  lot.  I 
have  never  known  a  time  in  my  life  when  I  could 
supinely  sleep,  or  waste  a  moment  in  hopeless  sorrow. 


CONCLUSION.  63' 


I  see  now  the  meaning  of  the  promise  made  to  me 
in  the  days  of  my  youth,  "I  will  hedge  up  thy  may 
with  thorns."  My  way  has  indeed  been  hedged  up, 
and  I  have  been  led  in  a  way  which  I  knew  not,  yet 
I  am  satisfied  that  it  has  been  the  right  way. 

It  has  been  a  hard  struggle  to  give  back  to  the 
Father  of  their  spirits,  the  sweet  children  that  for  a 
time  were  so  precious  to  me ;  but  my  greatest  con- 
solation is  in  knowing  that  my  treasures  are  laid  up 
in  Heaven,  safe  from  the  contamination  of  sin;  and 
I  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  the  coming 
of  the  Savior  is  near,  when  those  who  sleep  in  the 
dust  of  the  earth  will  arise,  and  with  the  faithful  on 
earth,  enter  into  the  joys  prepared  for  them  before 
the  foundation  of  the  world. 

Meanwhile,  although  our  home  is  childless,  our 
grandchildren  often  fill  the  vacant  places,  and  their 
tender  love  and  childish  prattle  fill  the  void  in  our 
hearts,  which  for  a  time  we  thought  nothing  could 
supply. 

The  memory  of  the  famine,  and  other  privations 
through  which  I  have  passed,  serve  to  enhance  the 
happiness  of  the  years  of  comfort  and  plenty  I  have 
since  enjoyed,  and  which  still  crown  my  path  ;  forci- 
bly reminding  me  of  the  words  of  Moses  to  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel,  in  the  8th  chap.  Deut.,  2nd  and  3rd 
verses.  "Thou  shalt  remember  all  the  way  which 
the  Lord  thy  God  led  thee,  these  forty  years  in  the 
wilderness,  to  humble  thee,  and  to  prove  thee,  to 
know  what  was  in  thine  heart,  whether  thou  wouldst 
keep  His  commandments  or  no.  And  He  humbled 
thee,  and  suffered  thee  to  hunger,  and  fed  thee  with 
manna,  which  thou  knewest  not,  neither  did  thy  fa- 
thers know,  that  he  might  make  thee  know  that  man 
doth  not  live  by  bread  only,  but  by  every  word  that 
proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  doth  man 
live." 


64  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


In  conclusion,  I  would  say  it  is  now  twenty-nine 
years  since  in  my  native  land,  I  heard  and  obeyed 
the  Gospel  as  restored  by  an  angel  to  Joseph  Smith, 
the  prophet  of  this  dispensation,  and  gathered  to 
this  land  that  I  might  hear  a  living  prophet  make 
known  the  will  of  God  to  His  people.  And  have  I 
been  disappointed?  No,  a  thousand  times,  no. 
Though  Joseph  was  slain,  and  Brigham  Young,  his 
successor,  has  gone  behind  the  veil,  a  living  prophet 
still  leads  and  guides  the  Latter-day  Saints. 

This  Gospel  with  all  the  keys,  gifts,  and  blessings 
of  former  dispensations  is  worthy  the  acceptation 
of  every  creature  under  heaven.  To  establish  this 
great  truth,  our  Prophet,  Patriarch  and  many  others 
have  sealed  their  testimony  with  their  blood.  Many 
of  our  Elders  are  traveling  without  purse  or  script, 
bearing  their  testimony  and  gathering  the  honest  in 
heart  to  Zion ;  others  are  laboring  at  home  in  the 
interest  of  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

Women,  whose  names  are  widely  known  as 
champions  for  our  faith,  are  earnestly  working  in 
the  same  cause,  and  many  others  equally  zealous, 
whose  names  are  comparatively  unknown  are  work- 
ing for  the  same  end. 

I  desire  to  add  my  humble  name  to  the  great 
cloud  of  witnesses  to  the  truth  of  this  Latter-day 
Work. 

HANNAH  CORNABY. 

Spanish  Fork,  Utah,  January  iyth,  1881. 


CROSSING  THE  ATLANTIC  OCEAN. 
A  REMINISCENCE. 


In  January,  Fifty-three,  we  left  our  English  home, 
Determined,  for  the  Gospel's  sake,  to  Zion's  land  to 

come. 
Our  family  was  very  small,   its  members  numbered 

three, 
Yet  strong  in  faith  of  Israel's  God,  and  full  of  hope 

were  we. 

'Twas  not  to  us  an  easy  task  to  bid  old  friends  adieu, 
To  take  a  long  farewell  of  those  who  always  had  been 

true, 
To  leave  for  aye,  the  cozy  home  we  made  but  just 

before, 
And  take  a  last  fond  look  of  things  we  should  behold 

no  more  ; 
The  wind  blew  keen,  as  out  we  went  into   the  cold 

gray  dawn, 
But  keener  far  the  chill  we  felt  within  our  hearts  that 

morn. 
The  stars  were  shining  over  us,  but  brighter  in  our 

breast 
Was  the   star  of  hope   that    'lured    us   on   to    the 

distant  West. 


66  POEMS. 


1    But  If  our  hearts  were  sore  and  sad,   as  through  those 

streets  we  went, 
To  leave  the  land  that  gave   us  birth,    was  still  our 

firm  intent; 

For  in  the  soul's  deep  recess,  we  heard  the  spirit  call 
"  Come  ye  out  of  Babylon,  lest  share  ye  in   her  sure 

fall." 
We  reached  the  station,  took  the  train,   and   (shall  I 

own  it)  wept 
As  we  left  behind  that  city  which  still   in   darkness 

slept. 

The  good  train  bore  us  safely  on,  no  accident  befell, 
That  night  we  spent   in  Liverpool  at  a  Temp' ranee 

hotel; 
Next  morn  we  heard  to  our  delight,  that  just  the  day 

before, 

A  company  from  Utah  had  landed  on  our  shore, 
And  we  hailed  with  joy  not  easy  told,  a  missionary 

band 
Of  elders,  who  had  come  to  preach  the  Gospel  in  that 

land. 
We  breakfasted  together,  tried  each  other's  hearts  to 

cheer, 
Talked  freely  of  the  distant  land,  so  distant,  yet  so 

dear ; 
They  blessed  us  with  their  cheering  words,  from  them 

we  comfort  drew, 
If  they  had  braved  the  stormy  sea,  could  we  not  brave 

it  too  ? 
If  they  had  safely  crossed   the  plains,    the   inference 

was  clear 
That  we  might  also  cross  them,  nor  the  cruel  Indian 

fear. 

We  parted  from  the  elders,  they  to  their  labors  sent 
And  we  to  engage  our  places,  within  the  vessel  went. 
Securely  moor 'd  beside  the  wharf,  our  chartered  vessel 
lay, 


CROSSING  THE    ATLANTIC    OCEAN.  67 


And    soon    our    little  earthly  all   was   safely   stowed 

away. 
Ellen  Maria,  the  vessel's  name,  she'd  carried  saints 

before, 
And  we  were   told   the  master  there,   was   Captain 

George  Whitmore. 

I    It  being  yet  a  week  or  so  before  she  put  to  sea, 
To  spend  the  time  as  best  we  could,  at  liberty  we'd 

be; 
The  vessel  thence  would  be  our  home,   at  night  we 

slept  on  board, 
By  day  we  sought  amusement  which  the  city  could 

afford. 
Saints  met  us  here,  who,  like  ourselves,  to  Utah  meant 

to  go, 

In  whose  society  the  hours  flew  fast  and  pleasant  too, 
And  ere  we  thought  the  word  was  given,  that  all  on 

board  must  be, 
The  ropes  were  loosed,  the  sails  were  spread,  and  we 

put  out  to  sea. 
E'en  now,  tho'  twenty  years  have   past,    I   live   that 

time  again, 

But  how  describe  the  sounds  that   rose,   of  mingled 
.j  joy  and  pain, 

While  we  our  voices  joined  to  bid  our  native  land 

farewell 
Which  told  that  we  were  going   to   another   land   to 

dwell? 
And  while  we  sang,  a  loud  sad  cry  above  the  music   \ 

went, 

Followed  by  sobs  and  wailing  moans  of  terrible  lament;    . 
For  it  was  then  we  learned,  what  before  we  did  not 

know, 

That  a  few  Irish  emigrants  were  in  the  hold  below. 
Their  country  !  oh,  their  dear  loved  isle  !  so  touching 
was  their  grief 


68  POEMS. 


That  many  hearts  'till  then  quite  brave,  in  tears  now 

found  relief. 
Alas  !  the  time  was  very' short  that  we  could  spend  in 

woe, 

For  as  the  vessel  started,  we  had  something  else  to  do. 
The  sobs  and  cries,  and  outward  signs  of  grief  soon 

passed  away, 
And  like  a  suffering,  weary  child,  within  our  berths 

we  lay. 
Three  hundred  and  sixty-three,  I  believe  our  numbers 

were, 
And  of  that  number,  very  few  did  not  sea-sickness 

share. 
The  mem'ry  of  those  dreadful  days  and  what  we 

suffered  then, 
Is  fresh  and  vivid  in  my  mind,  but  far  beyond  my 

pen. 
Thanks   to  the  Lord,  my  husband  not  a  touch  of 

sickness  knew, 

But  with  sufferers  all  around,  found  work  enough  to  do. 
Nine  days  and  nights  the  wind  blew  strong,   the  sea 

was  very  rough, 
The  vessel  rocked,  loose  boxes  flew,   and  tins  made 

noise  enough ; 
We  could  not  sleep  through  all  that  time,   for  clatter 

night  and  day, 
Still  in  the  Irish  Channel,    'mid  surging  foam  and 

spray. 
At  length  we  think  of  eating;  our  provision  chest  is 

stow'd 
With  goodly  things  of  all  kinds,   for  medicine  and 

food. 
We  opened  this,  with  anxious  hope,   but  oh !  alas ! 

alas  ! 

I  never,  never  can  describe  the  het'rogeneous  mass. 
Oranges,  pickles,  arrowroot,  preserves,  potatoes,  jam, 
Apples,  brandy,  mustard,  rhubarb,  and  boiled  ham, 


CROSSING   THE   ATLANTIC  OCEAN.  69 


Mashed  and  mixed  together,  as  if  the  only  object  were 
To  find  how  much  destruction,  could  be  effected  there. 
This  discov'ry  is  a  trying  and  a  sadd'ning  one  to  us, 
But  outside,  and  around  things  are  indescribably 

worse ; 
One  of  the  men,  the   sailors  say,    from  the  topmost 

rigging  falls, 
We  heard   the   crash,  the  awful    thud,  which  every 

heart  appalls. 
Some  of  our  brethren,  tenderly,  take  up  the  mangled 

form, 
And,  with  the  captain's  free  consent,  our  sacred  rites 

perform ; 
The  healing  power  is  manifest,   the  sailor's  life  is 

spared 
And  through  his  ling' ring  sickness,  for  his  wants  our 

brethren  cared. 
In  that  dread  time,   a  babe  was  born,   yet  scarcely 

drew  its  breath 
Ere  the  mother  with  her   darling,  lay  in  the   arms 

of  death. 
Death  !  ah,  what  a  feeling  with  this  word  ne'er  fails 

to  come  ! 
And  if  on   land,  'mong  loving  friends,   within   the 

quiet  home 

'Tis  an  unwelcome  visitor,  how  much  more  so  at  sea, 
With  lack  of  all  that  mitigates  its  sad  austerity ; 
On  land,  our  dead  in  holy  consecrated  ground  are 

laid, 

By  loving  tender  hands  and  hearts,  the  last  sad  trib- 
ute's paid. 
We  touch  the  dead  with  tenderness,  as  tho'  they 

could  feel  pain, 
And  venerate  the  senseless  form,  now  all  that  does 

remain, 
At  sea  this  feeling  is  perhaps  more  deep  and  more 

intense  ; 


70  POEMS. 


For  there  the  mode  of  burial  is  different,  the  sense, 
The  feelings,  all  are  wrung.  The  forms  before  us  now 
Are  dressed  with  all  the  gentleness,  the  billows  will 

allow. 

The  infant  laid,  as  if  asleep,  upon  its  mother's  breast, - 
But  oh  !  my  heart  is  sick  and  sad,  how  can  I  tell  the 

rest? 
Canvas  close  around  was  seAved.  then  weighted  at  the 

feet, 
The  bodies  on  a  board  are  placed  ;   preparations  are 

complete  ; 
And  the  forms  we  lov'd  and  valued)  alas  !   they  soon 

must  be 
Committed  to  the  merciless,  the  deep  and  yawning 

sea. 

They  now  are  borne  upon    the  deck,   with   due   sol- 
emnity 

We  follow  them  with  feelings  sad,  the  burial  to  see. 
The  dedicat'ry  rites  and  prayer  are  by  the  Priesthood 

said, 
And  we  proceed,  with  sorrow  now,   to   bury  these,    | 

our  dead. 
Reluctantly  the   board    is   raised  across  the  vessel's 

side. 
And  being  gentlv  tilted,   down   the  bodies  swiftly 

slide 

Into  the  open  water ;  and  now  the  rippling  wave, 
Receives  them  with  a   plash,    then   closes   o'er   their   : 

grave. 
But  there's  comfort   in    the   thought  that  God,  our 

God,  has  said, 
That  yet  the  sea  at  his  mandate,  again  will   vield   its 

11  O  *• 

dead  ; 
And  knowing  that  the  Gcd  we  serve,  is  truth,  as  well 

as  love. 
We  bo\v  to  Him,  who  ruleth  here,  as  in    the   realms 

above. 


CROSSING  THE    ATLANTIC    OCEAN.  71 


Then  in  confidence  to  our  Father,  and  to  our  God  we 
prayed, 

That  our  lives  might  still  be  spared,  and  the  roaring 
winds  be  stayed. 

Then  He  who  holds  the  winds  as  in  the  hollow  of  His 
hand, 

To  stop  their  raging  fury,  now  in  mercy  gave  com- 
mand. 

'•  He  still  !"    is   heard,    the   wind   obeys,   and   heavy 

billows  lower, 
We    see  Omnipotence  displayed  and  wonder   at   its 

power. 
.    We   view   the  broad  Atlantic,   smooth,   placid,   still 

and  calm, 
Its  waves   are   sporting   harmlessly    and   gentle  as  a 

lamb. 
The  respite   is   most  welcome  ;   those  who  can,  now 

walk  on  deck, 
And     note    with    wondrous    interest,    each    distant 

moving  speck. 
The  sailors,  busy  round  the  ship,  repairing  break  or 

rent, 
Captain  and   mates   their   orders   give,   all   seem   on 

bus'ness  bent. 

We  meet  our  fellow  passengers,  and  for  the  first  time 

speak 
To  some  who  on  the  deck  appear,  though  looking  low 

and  weak. 
New  life  and  hope  inspired  our  hearts,  and  drooping 

spirits  buoy, 
E'en  the  dumb  fishes  seemed  to  leap,  and  manifest 

their  joy  ; 
' ;    We  see  our  Irish  neighbors,  who  again  have  ventured 

out, 
;   But  seem-  to  be  regarding  us  with  fear,  distrust  and 

doubt ; 


POEMS. 


They'd  heard,  of  course,  what  dreadful  folks  these 

Mormon  people  are, 

And  so  it  would  be  just  as  well,  of  them  to  have  a  care. 
Two  girls  among  them  differ,    and  soon  grow  free 

and  chatty, 

And  told  us  of  their  brother,  who  lived  in  Cincinnati; 
That  he  had  sent  some  money,  and  that  all  his  friends 

had  come, 
And  now  were  on  their  way  to  make  America  their 

home. 
We  learned  that  they  are  very  poor,   allowances  are 

bare, 
But  thanks  to  those  who  manage  things,  we've  plenty 

and  to  spare. 
We  therefore  help  them  what  we   can,  and  often  are 

made  glad, 
To  see  the  light  of  grateful  joy,  in  eyes  before  so  sad. 

Peace  on  our  vessel  now  prevails,  order  again  re- 
stored, 
The  daily  prayer  and  praise  ascend,   like  incense  to 

the  Lord. 

The  stormy  past  is  over,  and  it  seems  almost  forgot, 
The    present  with  its  duties,    engrossed  our  every 

thought. 
This  life  at  sea ;  ah  !  who  can  tell  its  ever  changing 

face  ? 
Who  from  the  mind  the  beauty  of  those  sunset  views 

can  chase  ? 

How  describe  the  stars  at  night,  reflected  in  the  deep, 
Or  yet  the  holy  wondrous  spells  that  o'er  the  senses 

creep  ? 
As  easy  could  we  count  the  sands  that  hold  the  mighty 

sea, 

Or  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  a  vast  eternity. 
All  things  around  us  seemed  to   blend,    on   all  is 

stamped  sublime ; 


CROSSING  THE    ATLANTIC    OCEAN.  73 


As,  in  our  thoughts  we  lift  the  veil,  that  shrouds  the 
things  of  time. 

That  vessel  was  our  little  world,  its  inmates  were  a 

book, 
And  from  it  hist'ries  could  be  read  in  every  word  or 

look, 

We  saw,  as  in  a  day-dream,  its  ever  open  page, 
In  those  few,  eventful  weeks,  which  really  seemed  an 

age. 

On,  on,  we  go,  forever  on,  yet  never  seem  to  speed, 
For  surely,  if  we  go  at  all,  it  must  be  slow  indeed. 
Yet  the  sailor  at  the  helm,  says  "we're  moving  fast 

and  true, 
"  Ten  knots  an  hour  the  vessel  speeds ;"  and  he's  the 

one  to  know. 

A  young  couple  of  our  voyage,  about  this  time  decide, 

To  sail,  henceforth,  together,  a  life  voyage,  side  by 
side, 

Sunday  dawns  and  on  the  deck  we  witness  the  mar- 
riage rite, 

As  the  Priesthood,  in  holy  bonds,  this  couple  now 
unite. 

We  soon  are  conscious  that  we  breath  a  warmer  at- 
mosphere, 

A  soft  and  balmy  feeling  comes,  and  other  signs 
appear. 

The  monster  whale,  now  daily  seen,  sends  forth  a 
cloud  of  foam, 

And  dolphins  in  their  rainbow  hues,  quite  near  the 
vessel  come. 

The  flying  fish  amuse  us,  as  in  shoals  they  fly  or  leap, 

And  seem  at  home  in  air  above,  or  in  the  wat'ry  deep; 

The  nautilus  spreads  its  little  sail,  and  skims  the 
briny  wave, 

In  praise  to  the  Creator,  who  their  various  instincts 
gave. 


74  POEMS. 


While  watching  these,  we  seemed  to  lose  the  weary 

lassitude, 

Which  through  the  tedium  of  those  days,  would  often- 
times intrude. 
Two  infant  strangers  came  on  board,  a  baby  girl  and 

boy, 
Whose  advent  to  our  little  world,  made  quite  a  stir 

of  joy; 
In  compliment  to  the  captain,   the  parents  named 

their  son, — 
That  boy  and  mother  are  alive,  the  girl  and  mother 

gone, 
These  only  lived  a  few   short  days,   and  when   we 

reached  the  bar, 

With  many  tears  of  real  grief,  we  left  our  sister  there. 
We're  drawing  near  the  islands  now,  and  stormy  winds 

prevail, 
While  sometimes  in  the  distance,  we  descry  a  vessel's 

sail. 
One  now  comes  near,   the    captains  through  their 

speaking  trumpets  greet, 

We  learn  that  all  are  hungry,  having  nothing  left  to  eat; 
Our  company  has  plenty,  and  is  willing  to  divide. 
The  boats  in    haste  are  lowered,   and   are  quickly 

brought  'long  side, 
She  was  from  Charleston,  outward  bound,  by  storms 

had  been  delay'd. 
Provisions  now  were  handed  out;  all  hurry  while  she 

stayed  ; 
The  scene  was  novel,  all  on  board  felt  truly  thankful 

then, 
That  we  could  save  from  suffering,  those  needy  fellow 

men. 

Just  after  this,  I  think  it  was,  the  discov'ry  was  made 
That  our  frail  bark  had  sprung  a  leak,  and  quick  the 
tidings  spread. 


CROSSING  THE   ATLANTIC   OCEAN.  75 


Hours  of  intensely  painful  fear,  and  dread  suspense 

ensue, 

The  men  all  labor  at  the  pumps,  the  water  to  subdue. 
Pale  sad  faces  now  are  seen,  e'en  Charley,  our  merry 

cook, 
Seems  to  have  quite  forgotten  his  accustomed  laugh 

and  joke. 
The  second  mate  looked  in,  with  expression  droll  and 

sorry, 
"Well  never  mind,"  said  he,   "  we  all  are  going  to 

glory." 
At  length  suspense  is  ended,  we  are  told  the  danger's 

o'er, 
While  joy  and  gratitude  prevail,  where  all  was  grief 

before. 

Again  come  calm  and  quiet,  a  little  breathing  spell, 
Ere  of  danger  to  our  vessel,  once  more  I  have  to  tell; 
I'm  writing  this  from  mem'ry,  o'er  a  lapse  of  twenty 

years 
Of  life's  e'er  changing  phases,  its  mingled  joys  and 

tears ; 
Yet    on  memory's  tablet  they  have  been  so  firmly 

placed, 
That  reason  must  resign  its  throne,  ere  they  could  be 

erased. 

Our  vessel  steers  its  course,  near  the  Bahama  Islands 

now, 
The  voyage,    almost   o'er,  we're  near  the  Gull  of 

Mexico ; 
And  congratulate  ourselves,  while  with  hope  each 

heart  beats  high, 
Nor  mark  the  distant  storm  clouds  now  gathering  in 

the  sky, 
But  those  who  guide  the  vessel  can  her  fearful  peril 

see, 
A  gale  is  coming;  and  she  drives  with  strange  velocity, 


76  POEMS. 


Heedless  of  helm  or  sail,  on  towards  a  treacherous 

coast, 
And,  unless  her  course  is  changed,  she  will  certainly 

be  lost. 

Oh,  the  fury  of  that  storm  !  our  ship  will  surely  wreck, 
The  women  are  all  kept  inside,  the  men  ordered  up 

on  deck, 
We  cannot  see  what's  going  on,  but  hear  the  deaf- 

"ningdin 
Of  fearful  noises  overhead,  the  screams   and    cries 

within. 
Anchors  overboard  are  cast,  to  stay  her  dangerous 

flight; 
The  peril  is    augmented    by  the  darkness,  for    'tis 

night; 
The    anchors'  weight  like  feathers  seems  ;  still  on 

the  vessel  goes, 
For  her  keel's  quite  near  the  sand,  as  each  anxious 

sounding  shows ; 
We  know  that  there  is  danger,  yet  there's  potency 

in  prayer, 

And  in  this  trying  moment,  ask  our  Heavenly  Fath- 
er's care ; 
Our  spirits  feel  its  soothing  power,  and  patiently  we 

wait, 
The  few  brief  moments,  which  we  know  must  soon 

decide  our  fate. 
The  captain,  for  a  moment,  comes  inside  the  cabin 

door, 

And  in  his  face  we  read  a  look  we  never  saw  before, 
He  gazes  on  the  passengers,  but  utters  not  a  word, 
Yet  plainly  then  we  learn  our  fate,  altho'  no  sound 

is  heard  : 
My  husband  now  comes  in ;  his  face  looks  pale,  but 

calm ; 
He  sits  down  close  beside  me,  takes  our  babe  upon 

his  arm ; 


CROSSING   THE  ATLANTIC  OCEAN.  77 


Then  seeks,  Avith  tender  loving  words  to  know  if  I'm 
aware, 

Unless  Jehovah's  power  prevents,  death  must  be  very 
near. 

We  tell  each  other  of  our  hope,  beyond  the  reach  of 
death, 

Which  will, not  fail  us,  even  though  we  should  re- 
sign our  breath, 

And  though,  perhaps,  all  human  power  is  impotent 
to  save, 

Our  trust  is  stayed  on  Him  who  can  control  the 
wind  and  wave. 

The  wind  is  hushed,  the  danger  past,  oh,    how  the 

tidings  come, 
To  all  who  now  expect  to  meet  a  sudden  watery 

tomb  ! 
Life  comes  to.  us  instead  of  death ;  joy   takes   the 

place  of  grief, 

But  how  describe  the  feeling  of  the  wonderful  re- 
lief? 
The  vessel  righted,   now  her  course  again  can  be 

controlled, 
And  with  the  morning  light  the  distant  coast  we  can 

behold, 
While  now  we  shudder,  as  we  think,  what    would 

have  been  our  fate, 

But  for  the  interposing  power,  displayed  for  us  of  late. 
We  pass  the  islands  near  enough  to  see  the  huts  on 

shore, 
And  the  cook,  with  much  importance,  now  tells  us 

something  more, 

Assures  us  he  is  willing,  on  his  Irish  oath  to  swear, 
That  he  can  see  the  natives  frying  breakfast  pancakes 

there. 
We  are  talking  now  of  the  wonderful  escape  we've 

had, 


78  POEMS. 


When  the  second  mate,  with  his  ever  ready  humor 

said, 
"  "Pis  a  good  thing  for  us,  that  we'd  a  lot  of  Saints 

aboard, 
Or  we'd  all  now  be  in  glory,  if  you'll  believe  my 

word." 

All  is  plain  sailing,  soon  we  pass  the  Reefs  of  Florida, 
And  reach  without  more  accident  the  often  talked 

of  "bar." 

Here  we  must  wait  the  length  of  time  that  often  in- 
tervenes, 

Before  a  steam  tug  comes  to  tow  ships  up  to  New 
Orleans. 

We  feel  impatient,  but  must  brook  the  tedious-  delay, 

'Tis  now  the  third  of  March  ;  our  child  is  one  year 
old  to-day. 

Our  life  on  sea  is  ended,  but  the  danger  is  not  o'er, 

A  mighty  turbid  river,  with  its  perils,  lies  before. 

As  we  cannot  now  move  forward,  we'll  go  back  in 
thought,  and  view 

The  pleasing,  painful  incidents,  we've  recently 
passed  through. 

Six  weeks  since,  we  took  leave  of  the  English  river 
Mersey, 

We  are  now  at  the  mouth  of  the  famous  Mississippi. 

In  the  past  six  weeks  we  have  crossed  the   waters 

which  divide 
Two  mighty  cont'nents,  and,  thank  God,  are  on  the 

western  side, 
And  so  much  nearer  the  dear  home  on  which  our 

hearts  are  set, 

For  Utah  is  our  guiding  star,  our  land  of  promise  yet. 
We  sang  the  songs  of  Zion,  as  we  crossed  the  briny 

deep, 
In  perils,  sought  God's  care,  who  o'er  His  people 

watch  does  keep.. 


CROSSING  THE    ATLANTIC    OCEAN.  79 


Felt  how  very  strong  the  bond  that  binds  the  saints 

together, 
Our  faith,  our  hope  the  same,   each  is  a  friend  or 

brother. 

But  all  who  started  on  this  voyage,  are  not  with  us 

here, 
The  briny  deep  now  rolls  its  waves  o'er  some  who 

still  are  dear. 

A  little  orphan  girl,  a  kindly  passing  tribute  claims, 
Although  unknown  to  me  her  hist'ry  or  her  parent's 

names. 
She  pass'd  away  so  gently,  those  around  her  only 

knew 
Death's  presence,  by  his  impress  stamp' d  upon  her 

pallid  brow ; 
We  could  not  weep,  because  we  knew  her  spirit  then 

bar1,  gone, 
To  enjoy  a  home  prepared  for  her  where  sorrow  could 

not  come. 
The  casket,   left  behind,   now   'neath    the    restless 

ocean  sleeps, 
Her  minist'ring  spirit,  over  it,  unceasing  watch  still 

keeps 
Until  the  time  predicted,    when    the    resurrecting 

word, 
In  the  depth  of  ocean's  bed,  by  the  sleeper  will  be 

heard. 

|   But  the  present  calls  us  back,  and  forbids  to  linger 

more, 
It  has  a  scene  as  sad  as  that  which  was  described 

before ; 
A  sister  now  is  dead  ;  a  loving    wife   and    mother 

gone, 
Her  sun  of  life,  alas  !  went  down,  before  it  yet  was 

noon. 


80  POEMS. 


The  "tug"  is  here ;  farewell  sea,  we're  starting  up 
the  river, 

Good  bye,  old  Neptune,  we  leave  your  realms,  per- 
haps forever. 

We  are  on  the  Mississippi,  how  wonderful  it  seems, 
And  views  of  terra-firma   now,    unlike    the    poet's 

dreams ; 
How  good  the  change  of  scene,  and  how  welcome 

the  sight  of  land, 

With  signs  of  life  displayed  around  us  on  every  hand. 
How  dif'rent  the    vessel's  motion  !  she    seems    but 

just  to  glide 
On  these  wondrous  waters,  unheeding  either  wind 

or  tide, 

O  !  this  majestic  feeling  is  really  grand  to  me. 
Who  only  knew  such  rivers  as  the  Yare  and  Waveney, 
The  last  named  river  was  the  idyl  of  my  youthful 

days, 

On  its  smooth  surface,  I  have  watched  its  ever  wind- 
ing ways, 
Followed  its    quiet    wanderings    through    meadows 

sweet  with  flowers, 
Along  its  banks  have  rambled  in    my  childhood's 

happy  hours  ; 
My  sisters,  my    companions    then,    enjoyed    those 

scenes  with  me, 
And  oft  we  'woke  the  echoes,  .in  our  merry  childish 

glee; 

And  later,  he,  with  whom  I  sail  o'er  time's  uncer- 
tain stream, 
While  boating  on  this  river,  awoke  life's  happiest 

theme. 
'Tis  night !  I'm  dreaming  of  my  home,  and  happy 

English  scenes, 
But  'wake  to  find  I'm  far  away ;  we're  now  at  New 

Orleans. 


CROSSING  THE    ATLANTIC    OCEAN.  8l 


'Tis  early  morn,  and  from  our  berth  can  wharf  and 

houses  see, 

And  genuine  the  burst  of  joy,  we've  reached  America. 
We  thank  our  God  for  all  the  past ;  my  husband 

goes  on  shore, 
With  feelings  strangely  new  and  glad,  our  breakfast 

to  procure. 
Returning,  he  brings    water,    molasses,    and    light 

warm  bread, 
Not  sumptuous  fare,  but  tasted,  then,    the  best  we 

long  had  had. 
With  our  spirits  light  and  gladsome,  these    viands 

seem  so  good 
To  us  who  long  have  only  had,  bad  water  and  ship 

food. 

The  air  seems  to  exhilarate,  we  feel  so  rich  and  free, 
I  question,  if  just  then  on  earth,  were  folks  more 

glad  than  we. 

The  vessel  quickly  empties  of  passengers  and  crew, 
Of  course  all  had  to  go  on  shore,  New  Orleans  to 

view. 
We  ramble  through  the  streets,  and  wonder  at  the 

air, 

Half  French,   half  tropical,  which  meets  us  every- 
where ; 
The  French  market  was  a  marvel,  with  its  show  of 

fruits  and  flowers, 

But  a  description  of  it  baffles  my  poetic  powers. 
The    buildings   were    magnificent    and    imposingly 

grand, 

But  of  a  style  I  had  not  seen  within  my  native  land. 
I  did  not  like  the  feeling  there,  and  only  take  away 
Three  pleasant  recollections  which  are  cherished  to 

this  day. 

A  negress  kindly  gave  an  orange  to  my  little  child ; 
A  lady  handed  her  a  bunch  of  luscious  grapes  and 

smiled ; 


10 


82  POEMS. 


And  of  some  early  flowers  we  bought,  just  gathered 

from  the  sod, 
So  pure  and  sweet,  they  might  have  come,  fresh  from 

the  hand  of  God. 

Here,  as  at  Liverpool,  the  vessel  is  our  only  home, 
And  back  to  its  kindly  shelter,  at  night,   like  bees 

we  come. 
The  time  is  drawing  very  near,  when  we  shall  have 

to  go; 
To-morrow,  we  must  bid  the  Ellen  Maria  adieu. 

It  seems  as  if  but  yesterday,  since  first  we  came  on 

board, 

Yet  if  recorded,  what  a  page  its  log-book  would  afford  ! 
Those  events  are  on  my  mem'ry,  and  come  before 

me  now, 
As,  for  the  last  time,  I  stand  awhile  upon  the  vessel's 

prow. 

We  have  suffered,  but  how  willing  has  been  the  sac- 
rifice, 

Which,  like  accepted  incense,  has  risen  to  the  skies. 
Gratefully,  our  thanks  ascend,  to  our  Father,  God, 

in  heaven, 
That  to  us  in  these  Latter-days,   He  has  the  Gospel 

given. 
Then  we'll  welcome  all  before  us  ;  let  tribulations 

come, 
We  are  only  pilgrims  passing  through  them   to  our 

home. 
But  there's  no  more  time  for  reverie;  we've  orders 

now  to  go, 
And  make  our  acquaintance  with  the  Rob  Roy  and 

its  crew. 
My  first  impressions  still  remain,    I've  kept  them 

ever  since, 
And  never  hear  a  steamboat  named,  without  a  shrug 

or  wince. 


CROSSING  THE    ATLANTIC    OCEAN.  83 


We  must  leave  our  Irish  neighbors,  who  only  thus 
far  come, 

T'escape  from  poverty,  and  make  in  this  free  land  a 
home. 

Now  very  hearty,  almost  tender,  is  the  last  good- 
bye, 

That  in  the  bustle  of  the  hour,  we  just  have  time  to 
say. 

Captain,  mates,  and  all  the  ship's  company,  here  we 

must  part, 
But  pleasant  mem'ries  of  you,  will  go   with   many   a 

heart. 
The  poor  sick  sailor,   (our  brethren's  care)  now  is 

going  off, 
We  see  him  on  his  crutches,  slowly  moving  'long 

the  wharf. 
Ellen  Maria,  old  friend,  we  take  our  final  leave  of 

you, 
Tho'  dangers  oft  have  threatened,  you've  borne  us 

safely  through, 
Many  the  saints  that  you  have  brought,  and  landed 

on  this  shore; 
But  now  adieu,  iil-fated  ship,  you'll  carry  saints  no 

more. 
On  her  next  voyage,  this  vessel,  a  total   wreck  was 

found, 
Her  captain,  and  the  sailors  all  were  saved  ;  not  one   • 

was  drowned. 
On  the  steamer  now  !  as  she  is  moving  off  we  are 

told, 
There  are  slaves  on  board,  going  up  the  river  to  be 

sold; 
Orleans  is  rich  with  such  traffic  ;  believe  me  when  I 

say, 
i    I'd  rather  own  the  faith  I  hold,  than  all   its  wealth 

to-day. 


84  POEMS. 


A  SIMILITUDE. 

Cast  thv  bread  upon  the  waters,  for  them  shall  find  it  after  many  days. 
Eccl— n— i. 


Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters, 
And  doubt  not  in  thy  mind, 
For  after  many,  many  days, 
The  harvest  thou  shalt  find. 

This  lovely  little  metaphor, 
Used  many  years  ago 
By  Solomon,  is  surely  meant, 
A  hidden  truth  to  show. 

In  Egypt's  land  where  drouth  prevails, 
And  rains  but  seldom  fall, 
Where,  it  would  seem,  that  food  for  man 
Could  not  be  raised  at  all, 

At  certain  times,  the  river  Nile 
Its  banks  will  overflow  ; 
And  over  all  the  land  around, 
The  rushing  waters  go. 

The  people  then  go  forth  in  boats, 
The  "  bread  " — or  rice — to  sow, 
Which  cast  upon  the  waters  round, 
Sinks  to  the  soil  below. 

The  waters  soon  again  recede, 
Again  the  land  is  dry, 
And  now  a  lovely  crop  is  seen, 
To  cheer  the  passers  by. 

And  is  there  not  a  moral  hid  ? 

A  truth  which  e'er  will  last? 

A  sense,  in  which  upon  life's  stream, 

Our  bread  may  oft  be  cast  ? 


CONTEMPLATIONS.  85 


A  thought,  a  word,  a  deed  of  ours, 
If  broadcast  sown  around, 
May  yield  a  crop  more  precious  far, 
Than  Egypt's  rice  when  found. 

A  kindly  word  may  sink  below 
The  surface,  and  be  hid  ; 
But  oh  !  it  never  can  be  lost, 
'Twill  rise  again  unbid. 

It  germinates  in  heart's  deep  soil, 
A  harvest  of  the  mind 
Will  bless,  and  pay  the  sower's  care, 
And  his  reward  he'll  find. 

A  general  harvest  time  will  come, 
Then,  all  that  we  have  sown, 
The  good  and  evil,  will  be  seen 
And  their  results  be  known. 


CONTEMPLATIONS. 

And  they  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament;  and 
they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever. 
Daniel — 12 — 3. 


The  mind  that  takes  a  wide  survey  on  Contemplation's 

wings, 
And  calmly  views  this  world  of  ours,  and  present  state 

of  things, 
If  filled  with  true  philanthrophy,  will  feel  the  bosom 

glow 

With  warm  desire  to  alleviate,  the  evils  seen  to  flow 
Our  world  is  old,  and  every  age  has  light  of  reason 

brought ; 
Great  minds  have  been  employed,  yet  the  philosophy 

taught, 


86  POEMS. 


Has  only  given  to  the  world,  just  light  enough  to 

show, 
That  still  in  reason's  light  alone,  error  and  darkness 

grow, 
Priestcraft  and  kingly  tyranny  have  made  the  nations   ; 

groan  ; 
And  for  the  evils  they  have  caused,  are  powerless  to 

atone. 
The  sword  has  slain  its  millions,  and  o'er  the  hideous 

tomb, 
The  baneful  weeds  have  grown  more  rank,   because 

not  overcome. 
Thus,    superstition,    ignorance,   crime,  bigotry  and 

pride, 
Now  are  sweeping  like  a  torrent,    fearfully  deep  and    j 

wide. 
What  power  can  stem  this  surging  stream,  or  bid  its 

mighty  wave 

Recede,  ere  it  engulfs  the  world  in  one  huge  com- 
mon grave  ? 
This  question  might  be  asked  in  vain,  but  happily  we 

know, 
A  safer  light  than  reason  gives,  has  dawned  upon  us 

now. 

The  Priesthood  of  the  eternal  God,  to  man  is  given, 
With  Revelation's  light  to  guide  us  back  to  God  and 

heaven  ; 

Yet  great  as  are  the  evils  still  resulting  from  the  curse, 
Wide  spread  as  are  the  miseries  that  fill  the  universe, 
So  ample  is  the  remedy  the  Gospel's  light  has  shed, 
Embracing  all  of  Adam's  race,   the  living  and  the 

dead. 

And  human  agency  must  help  to  carry  out  the  scheme, 
The  immenseness   of  which  will  be  eternity's  grand 

theme. 

To  those  who  know  the  Gospel,  in  its  purity  and  truth, 


CONTEMPLATIONS.  87 


Belongs  the  all  important  work  to  educate  the  youth. 
And  those  whose  pleasing  task  it  is  to  teach  the  rising 

age, 

Will  find  encouragement  and  aid,  on  wisdom's  writ- 
ten page. 
The  Bible,  sacred  volume  !  teems  with  promises  to 

cheer 
All  those  who  strive  with  honest  hearts  and  purposes 

sincere. 
And  is  it  not  a  noble  work,   to  mould  the  youthful 

mind  ! 
To  break  the  chain  which  sin  and  vice  around  their 

vot'ries  bind? 
To  bend  aright  the  pliant  twig,  to  train  the  growing 

bough, 
That    they  like  tl  trees  of  righteousness,"  before  the 

Lord  may  grow. 
Perhaps  the  teacher's  hardest  work,  the  real  toil,  is 

found 

In  combatting  the  traditions,  which  in  this  age  abound. 
To  counteract  their  influence,  is  sure  no  common 

task, 
But  who  is  equal  to  this  work?    all   earnest   teachers 

ask. 

Yet  is  there  not  sufficient  to  sustain  us  in  the  thought 
That  we  are  laboring  to  bring  God's  purposes  about? 
Tis  ours  in  faith,  where'er  we  can,  to  sow  the  seed  of 

truth, 
To    God   belongs  the    blessing  so  essential  to    its 

growth ; 
For  steadily  truth's  light  must  shine,  until  it  clears 

away 

The  fog  and  mist  of  ages,  and  reveals  the  perfect  day. 
Both  ignorance  and  sin  will  flee,  and  knowledge,  like 

a  flood 
O'erspread  the  earth,  for  prophets  tell  that  all  will 

know  their  God. 


88  POEMS. 

SONG. 

WHO  is  ON  THE  LORD'S  SIDE? 
Tune — Life  on  the   Ocean    Wave. 


Who's  on  the  Lord's  side  ?     Who  ? 

Now  is  the  time  to  show ; 

We  ask  it  fearlessly, 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

We  wage  no  common  war, 

Cope  with  no  common  foe; 

The  enemy's  awake; 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

Chants. — Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 
Now  is  the  time  to  show, 
We  ask  it  fearlessly, 
Who's  on  the  Lord's  side  ?     Who? 

We  serve  the  living  God, 

And  want  his  foes  to  know, 

That  if  but  few,  we're  great, 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

We're  going  on  to  win, 

Nor  fear  must  blanch  the  brow, 

The  Lord  of  Hosts  is  ours. 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

Chorus. — Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who?  Etc. 

The  stone  cut  without   hands, 

To  fill  the  earth  must  grow, 

Who'll  help  to  roll  it  on  ? 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

Our  ensign  to  the  world, 

Is  floating  proudly  now, 

No  coward  bears  our  flag, 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

Chorus.—  Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who?  Etc. 


WHO  IS  ON  THE  LORD'S  SIDE?  89 


The  powers  of  earth  and  hell, 
In  rage  direct  the  blow, 
That's  aimed  to  crush  the  work. 
Who's  on  the  Lord's  side  ?     Who? 
Truth,  life,  and  liberty, 
Freedom  from  death  and  woe, 
Are  stakes  we're  fighting  for, 
Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

Chorus. — Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who?  Etc. 

The  Lord  has  armies  great, 

Which  at  his  bidding  go, 

His  chariots  are  strong. 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

When  he  makes  bare  His  arm 

To  lay  the  wicked  low, 

Then  is.  the  time  to  ask, 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

Chorus. — Who's  on  the  Lord's  side.      Who?  Etc. 

Then  rally  to  the  flag, 

Our  God  will  help  us  through, 

The  victory  is  ours, 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

Stainless  our  flag  must  wave, 

And  to  the  nations  show 

The  olive  branch  of  peace, 

Who's  on  the  Lord's  side?     Who? 

Chorus.—  Who's  on  the  Lord's  side  ?     Who  ?  Etc. 


9° 


POEMS. 


CHRISTMAS  IN  MY  CHILDHOOD'S  HOME. 
A  RETROSPECT. 


Christmas — whatsoever  the  cynic  may  say 
To  me,  is  a  welcome  and  bright  holiday, 
Bringing  back  memories  I  ne'er  would  forget; 
Thro'  the  mists  of  the  past,  that  spot  is  green  yet. 

On  Christmas  at  home,  when  mother's  loved  voice 
Would  tell  us  the  reason  why  all  should  rejoice. 
We  listened  with  joy,  though  the  tale  was  the  same 
How  shepherds,  to  herald  the  glad  tidings  came. 

That  Jesus,  our  Saviour,  in  Bethl'em  was  born, 
And  the  angels  rejoiced  on  that  auspicious  morn, 
That  peace  and  good  will  towards  man  was  the  strain 
And  the  heavenly  host  caught  up  the  refrain. 

With  what  rapture  still,  does  memory  go  back, 
Forty  long  years,  over  life's  uneven  track, 
To  childhood's  bright  days,  and  my  dear  happy  home, 
Where  my  sisters'  loved  forms  like  sweet  pictures  come. 

Christmas  eve  !  what  a  host  of  thoughts  it  can  bring, 
And  fond  recollections  around  it  still  cling, 
When  my  father  brought  home  the  bright  holly  bough 
With  laurel  and  ivy,  and  famed  miseltoe. 

E'en  now  comes  again  the  glad  bustle  and  hum, . 
Over  time's  heavy  mist,  the  sound  seems  to  come, 
'Twould  be  midnight  e'er  decorations  were  made, 
And  tired,  happy  children,  our  good-nights  had  said. 

Next  morning  it  seemed  that  we  scarcely  had  slept, 
Ere  merry  Christmas  chimes  o'er  sleepy  ears  crept, 
We  dressed,  ate  our  breakfast,  then  hastened  away 
To  the  church,  where  service  was  held  on  that  day. 


CHRISTMAS  IN  MY  CHILDHOOD'S  HOME.  91 


That  church  !  I  suppose  it  would  not  be  amiss 
To  give  just  a  word  to  that  grand  edifice ; 
The  structure  was  old,  by  the  Catholics  reared, 
'Twas  plain  that  no  labor  or  cost  had  been  spared. 

Its  groin'd  and  arch'd  windows  were  marvels  of  art, 
The  crucifixion  of  Christ  on  one  formed  part, 
The  colors,  subject,  and  conception  sublime, 
Remaining  unchanged  by  the  touches  of  time. 

Were  my  powers  of  description  greater,  I  might 
Describe  things  inside,  which  inspection  invite, 
The  walls  filled  with  tablets  of  marble  that  told 
How  hearts,  once  quite  famous,  have  long  since  grown 
cold. 

The  ten  commands  graven  on  tables  of  stone 
The"  Lord's  Prayer  and  Belief,"  I've  read  every  one. 
Have  knelt  on  the  grand  marble  steps,  that  then  led 
To  the  altar,  where  holy  emblems  were  spread. 

Then  the  grand  organ,  with  its  deep  solemn  sound 
Awoke  veneration,  and  worship  profound. 
The  organist,  too,  seemed  a  part  of  the  whole, 
As  did  also  the  blower,  poor,  lame,  old  John  Bull. 

But  why  linger  thus,  for  you  wanted  to  hear 
How  Beccles  church  look  d  in  its  holiday  gear  ; 
When  various  employees  had  all  done  their  best 
And  in  bright  green  and  red  the  old  church  was  dress'd. 

Well  then,  'tis  with  shame  that  I  now  have  to  own. 
More  respect  to  the  church,  than  parson  was  shown. 
We  admired  the  bright  green  and  the  berries  so  red. 
But  scarce  gave  thought  to  what  the  minister  said. 

The  old  place  looked  grand, and  we  counted  each  spray 
That  on  pulpit,  desk,  and  on  chandeliers  lay  ; 
And  were  anxious  to  see  whatever  came  next, 
But  alas  !  not  once  thought  of  lesson  or  text. 


92 


POEMS. 


No  doubt  this  was  wrong,  and  you'll  not  be  surprised 
To  hear  we  looked  foolish  when  next  catechised, 
But  perhaps  we  all  learned  the  lesson  conveyed, 
In  the  words  of  reproof  the  rector  essayed. 

But  no  thought  of  this  passed  through  our  heads  that 

day, 

And  when  service  was  o'er,  we  hurried  away 
To  our  home,  where  we  found  the, table  was  spread, 
Roast  beef  and  plum  pudding,  in  holly  arrayed. 

Dear  mother  helped  quickly  to  take  off  our  wraps; 
Pellices  and  shawls,  gloves,  bonnets,  hat  and  caps, 
For  the  nonce,  were  all  left  heap'd  up  in  a  pile, 
As  the  dinner  was  getting  cold  all  the  while. 

We  quickly  were  ready,  the  blessing  was  asked, 
And  all  set  to  work  on  the  Christmas  repast. 
I  own  on  the  whole,  ample  justice  was  done 
To  the  viands  'mid  plenty,  talking  and  fun. 

Then,  after  dinner,  there  were  dried  fruits  in  store, 
Hid  safely  away  the  evening  before. 
Aunt  Lydia,  in  London,  we  knew  did  not  fail, 
To  send  a  big  box  ev'ry  Christmas  by  mail. 

But  that  kind  and  dear  aunt,  now  sleeps  with  thedead, 
For  in  life's  early  prime,  her  kind  spirit  fled ; 
And  the  friends  of  my  youth,  that  made  life  most  dear, 
Have  all  vanished  from  sight  this  many  a  year. 

My  dear  honored  parents,  have  long  gone  away 
But  their  good  works  remain,  these  ne'er  will  decay, 
But  will  live  through  all  time,  and  brighter  will  be, 
As  time  merges  on  to  eternity's  sea. 

They  were  kind  to  the  poor,  the  needy  might  share 
In  whatever  means  they  could  possibly  spare  ; 
The  outcast  and  stranger,  a  shelter  could  find, 
Tho'  cold  was  the  season,  and  fierce  blew  the  wind. 


TO  A  TULIP.  93 


Their  children  were  all  taught  old  age  to  revere, 
And  the  God  ot  the  heav'ns  to  worship  and  fear. 
Though  the  Gospel  restored,  they  never  have  heard, 

God  is  righteous,  and  they'll  not  lose  their  reward. 

I 

Those  bright  Christmas  pastimes  could   not  always 

last, 

Like  the  actors,  they  now  are  things  of  the  past. 
And  mem'ry  goes  back  with  no  sigh  of  regret; 
Assured  a  bright  future  remains  for  us  yet. 


TO  A  TULIP. 

SEEN  IN  THE  GARDEN  IN  FEBRUARY. 


Hardy  flower,  thou  hast  lifted  thy  head. 
Above  thy  drear,  snow-girt    wintry  bed, 
Of  all  the  sweet  spring  flowers,  thou  art  first 
To  break  through  the  garden's  cold  icy  crust. 

Fearless  flower  !  thou  hast  now  ventured  forth, 
Though  the  wind  still  comes  from  the  biting  north. 
j   Alone  thou  art  braving  its  piercing  chill, 
While  thy  sisters  around  thee  are  slumb'ring  still. 

Beautiful  flower  !   glad  herald  of  spring, 
As  the  dove  to  the  Ark,  a  promise  you  bring, 
While  spring,  like  the  olive-branch  fresh  and  green, 
Through  chill  winter's  lingering  storms  is  seen. 

Thou  wert  true  to  thy   coming,    faithful  flower, 
And  faltered'st  not  though  the  storm  clouds  lower ; 
In  thy  cold  prison,  felt  the  sun's  warm  breath, 
And  hast  risen  again  from  thy  seeming  death. 

Not  dead,  for  in  all  nature's  mighty  range 
Death  is  unknown  ;  it  is  life,  growth,  and  change 


94  POEMS. 


Harmoniously  keeping  creation's  laws, 
In  obedience  to  a  great  first  cause. 

The  humblest  flower  that  springs  from  the  sod, 
Reveals  to  the  eye  the  finger  of  God, 
And  speaks  to  the  heart  in  its  silence,  more 
Than  the  whirlwind's  rush,  or  the  thunder's  roar. 


WOMAN'S    MISSION. 


I  never  wished  to  be  a  queen, 
To  wear  the  robes  of  state, 

Or  have  my  name  enrolled  among 
The  famous  or  the  great. 

I  never  cared  for  "woman's  rights," 

Nor  ever  had  a  fear, 
But  that  if  woman  sought,  she'd  find 

Her  own,  her  proper  sphere. 

I  know  that  woman's  mission's  great, 
Yet  comprehends  the  small, 

The  tiny,  trifling  things  of  life, 
Important  to  us  all. 

In  this,  true  woman  finds  her  sphere, 

Her  happines-3  complete, 
In  loving,  helping,  blessing  all 

With  whom  she  chance  to  meet. 

What  need  for  her  of  Congress'  halls, 

Or  legislative  cares, 
The  promptings  of  her  woman's  soul, 

Is  all  the  law  she  hears. 

The  law  of  love  implanted  there, 
By  our  great  Parent's  hand, 

If  not  perverted,  safely  guides, 
Woman  in  every  land. 


ANOTHER    OUTRAGE.  95 


I  wish  I  had  the  power  to  write, 

Woman  to  vindicate, 
To  tell  her  true  nobility, 

E'en  in  this  fallen  state. 

I  never  wished  for  wealth  or  fame, 

For  I  have  understood, 
How  poor  and  valueless  are  these. 

Compared  with  being  good. 


"ANOTHER  OUTRAGE." 

:  PRESIDENT     BRIGHAM    YOUNG     IMPRISONED      IN     THE 
PENITENTIARY. ' ' 


'Tis  hard  to  keep  back  the  tear  from  the  eye, 
Or  the  blush  that  crimsons  the  cheek, 
Check  the  angry  thoughts  that  rise  in  the  breast, 
Or  to  forbid  the  tongue  to  speak  : 

To  repress  all  the  ire  and  bitter  scorn, 

That  would  force  from  the  lips  a  smile, 

To  think  that  on  earth  a  judge  could  be  found, 

So  corrupt,  malignant  and  vile. 

'Twere  as  easy  to  stand  by  ocean's  side, 
And  keep  back  the  waves  from  the  shore, 
Still  the  tumult  of  the  billows  that  toss, 
When  the  storms  in  their  fury  roar. 

To  patiently  wait,  while  an  unjust  judge 
(Backed  by  minions  as  base  as   he) 
Regardless  of  law,  oppresses  the  just, 
And  then  lets  the  wicked  go  free. 

If  saints  can  endure  an  outrage  like  this, 
In  their  own  beloved  mountain  home, 
Then  Utah  can  boast  of  heroes  more  brave, 
Than  those  of  old  Sparta  or  Rome. 


96  POEMS. 

A  TRUE  STORY. 


An  Elder  was  preaching  the  Gospel  in  Wales, 

Without  either  purse  or  scrip, 
And  it  happened  sometimes  that  he  had  to  feel 

Hunger's  keen,  unwelcome  grip. 

One  day — 'twas  past  noon — he  was  trav'ling  along, 

Quite  uncertain  where  to  dine, 
He  was  weary  and  faint,  but  his  faith  was  strong, 

Nor  did  he  feel  to  repine. 

His  heart  raised  in  prayer,  still  onward  he  went, 

'Till  a  house  appeared  to  view, 
With  signs  of  much  comfort  and  plenty  around, 

And  smithy  attached  thereto. 

Now,  a  blacksmith's  shop  is  a  place  of  resort, 

And  hither  he  bent  his  way, 
Very  shortly  a  listening  group  had  met, 

To  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 

With  truth's  own  eloquence,  the  Elder  then  spoke, 

And  the  simple  story  told, 
That  God,  in  these  great  Latter-days  had  restored, 

The  Gospel,  as  'twas  of  old. 

He  was  preaching  repentance,  baptism  for  sin, 
When  in  came  the  blacksmith's  wife, 

Full  of  anger  toward  this  servant  of  God, 
Like  some  spirit  bent  on  strife. 

Very  wisely  our  Elder  kept  back  the  ire, 

'Twas  impossible  not  to  feel, 
'Till  the  blacksmith's  wife  had  expended  her  words 

As  well  as  anger  and  zeal. 

"  Now  madam,"  the  Elder  said,  "  I  would  enquire 
"  To  what  sect  you  may  belong  ?' 


CO-OPERATION.  97 


"  I  am  a  Baptist,  sir,  and  firmly  believe 
"All  other  religions  wrong." 

"  You  do  r.ot  believe  in  the  Testament,  then  ?" 

"Why,  yes,  most  truly  I  do.  " 
"  It  seems  rather  strange,  but  allow  me  to  ask 

"  If  you  keep  it  precepts  too? 

"You  called  me  your  enemy  only  just  now, 

"I'm  very  hungry  indeed, 
"Therefore  if  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him, 

"Is  the  way  my  Bible  reads.  " 

A  deafening  shout  broke  from  the  gathered  throng, 

And  loudly  they  cheer  and  clap, 
"There  now,  woman, "the blacksmith  laughingly  said, 

"You're  surely  caught  in  a  trap." 

My  story  is  told,  for  the  sequel  scon  proved. 

That  Philip  Sykes  was  winner, 
Without  even  a  murmur,   she  sat  him  down 

To  a  substantial  dinner. 


CO- OPERATION. 

A  SONG. —  Welsh  Air.  Glan  "  Meddwdod  Ww\n. 


Joy!  joy!   to  the  righteous,  the  good  time  has  come. 
The  Latter-day  Saints  are  uniting  in  one, 
The  Priesthood  in  wisdom  all  things  will  control, 
And  the  sceptre  of  Jesus  in  peace  shall  bear  rule. 

Chorus. — Hallelujah  !  Hallelujah  !  we  will  rot  refrain, 
But  with    the  redeemed  take  up  the  glad  strain, 
That  Jesus  is  coming  in  glory  to  reign. 


98  POEMS. 


'Tis  co-operation  will  make  us  all  one, 
And  perfect  the  work  that  in  Zion's  begun, 
And  happy  are  those  who  will  join  heart  and   hand, 
To  aid  this  great  cause  throughout  Zion's  blest  land. 

Chorus. 

We'll  not  shrink  from  duty  when  called  to  fulfill, 
But  gladly  obey  with  our  mind,  might  and  will, 
The  voice  of  the  Priesthood  to  us  is  the  word, 
Of  Him,  whom  we  honor,  our  Father  and  God. 

Chorus. 

We  are  a  people  sought  out  from  all  climes 
To  help  on  God's  work  in  these  Latter-day  times, 
And  never  shall  effort  or  energy  cease, 
'Till  the  Kingdom  of  Christ  is  established  in   peace. 

Chorus. 

We've  looked  for  the  time  when  we  shall  be  one, 
When  God's  will  on  earth,  as  in  heaven  is  done, 
And  the  beauty  of  Zion.  the  nations  shall  see, 
And  known  for  their  union,  her  people  shall  be. 

Chorus. 

Then  let  us  rejoice,  for  the  good  time  has  come. 
The  faithful  in  Zion  are  joining  in  one. 
The  Priesthood  in  wisdom,  all  things  will  control 
And  the  sceptre  of  Jesus  in  peace  shall  bear  rule. 

Chorus. 


TO  BISHOP  ALBERT  K.   THURBER.  99 


TO  BISHOP  ALBERT  K.   THURBER 


WHEN  LEAVING  SPANISH  FORK. 


My  dear  old  friend,  long  tried  and  true, 
I  cannot  say  good  bye  to  you, 
Religion's  and  affection's  bondj 
Have  formed  a  chord  of  friendship  fond, 
And  it  would  seem  like  fiiendship's  knell 
To  speak  that  hated  word — farewell. 

Friends  and  associations,  bind 
You  to  the  scenes  you  leave  behind ; 
Yet,  in  the  course  of  Providence 
Other  duties  have  called  you  hence  ; 
Another  field,  a  wider  sphere, 
Now  call  you  from  your  duties  here. 

May  you  be  blest  where'er  you  go, 
And  prospered  in  whate'er  you  do, 
Whether  in  teaching  gospel  light 
To  the  degraded  Lainanite, 
In  building  up  the  saints  of  GoJ, 
Or  preaching  righteousness  abroad. 

Tho'  here  our  roads  may  seem  to  part, 
Faith  whispers,  we  are  one  in  heart, 
And  Hope  will  point  with  finger  bright, 
To  happier  scenes  beyond  our  sight ; 
Tho'  now  the  parting  gives  us  pain, 
Ere  long  we  hope  to  meet   again. 

Oh,  may  God's  blessing  rest  on  all 
Your  wives,  and  children,  great  and  small, 
And  sweet  contentment  ever  rest 
Within  your  home,  a  welcome  guest, 
And  may  we  all  live  good  and  true, 
Keeping  life's  noblest  end  in  view. 


100  POEMS. 


ODE  TO  INDEPENDENCE  DAY. 


All  hail  to  the  day,  when  America  broke 

Asunder  the  power  of  dread  tyranny's  yoke, 

And  declared  her  intention,  thenceforth  to  be 

Independent,  self  governed,  united  and  free. 

All  honor  !  the  spirit  of  freedom  that  gave 

Str  ngth  to  her  people,  opposition  to  brave, 

And  of  all  freedom's  children,  none  more  than  these, 

Can  prize  the  choice  blessings  this  day  guarantees  ; 

But  more  than  a  century  has  passed  since  then, 

And  we  ask  with  regret,  where  now  are  those  men, 

Whose  noble  intelligence,  governed  by  right, 

A  people  before  trampled  under  by  might  ? 

There  were  representatives  then,  gold  could  not  bribe; 

Who  were  willing  all  wisdom  to  God  to  ascribe, 

While  the  statutes  and  laws  by  Congress  then  given, 

Were  first  framed  and  sent  from  the  councils  of  Heaven. 

'Tis  pleasing  indeed,  to  revert  back  and  see, 

That  then,  in  God's  sight,  all  were  equal  and  free  ; 

No  paid  politician  dare  put  in  a  clause 

To  prevent  any  creed  from  keeping  God's  laws. 

Land  of  my  choice  !  thy  constitution  provides 

That  each  by  the  dictates  of  conscience  decides, 

And  if  those  who  make  laws  should  swerve  from  the 

right, 

The  judge  of  the  world  will  arise  in  His  might. 
Oh,  my  country  !  now  has  thy  proud  eagle  flown, 
And  justice,  and  truth  have  both  left  their  throne, 
While  oppression  and  power  with  arrogant  tread, 
March  over  the  grave  of  thy  greatness  long  dead. 
Else  how  could  the  blood  of  our  martyrs  have  flown 
When   the  Gospel  of  Christ    was  by  Joseph  made 

known  ? 

Its  followers  pleaded  again  and  again, 
For  the  right  to  serve  God,  but  pleaded  in  vain  ; 
On  Freedom's  sod,    persecuted  and  driven 


OUR  NATIVE  FLOWERS.  IOI 


From  houses  and  lands,  for  which  they  had  striven, 
'Till  on  Mexican  soil  they  found  an  abode 
Where  they,  unmolested,  could  worship  their  God. 
By  patient  endurance,  vast  wastes  they  reclaim, 
Adding  lustre  and  wealth  to  America's  name  ; 
Tho'  pilgrims  in  exile,  the  home  tie  was  dear, 
And  they  loyally  raised  the  Stars  and  Stripes  here  ; 
Through  trials  unheard  of  they've  ever  been  true 
To  the  flag  of  their  country:  the  Red,  White  and  Blue: 
But  now,  'neath  that  banner's  broad  sheltering  fold, 
Sad  tales  of  oppression  and  wrong  might  be  told. 
Persecution's  red  hand  is  over  them  still, 
In  the  form  of  a  "  Poland  "  or  "Luttrell  bill," 
Curtailing  their  rights,  by  subverting  the  law, 
Ever  seeking  to  find  some  possible  flaw, 
As  excuse  to  remove  all  vestige  of  power, 
Then  leave  them  like  sheep,  for  the  wolves  to  devour. 
But  wisdom  from  Heaven  is  still  given  to  guide 
The  Latter-day  Saints,  in  whatever  betide. 
Though  foes  may  be  cunning,  and  join  hand  to  hand, 
The  Saints  will  yet  grow  and  inherit  the  land ; 
And  if,  through  corruption,  oppression  and  lust, 
Columbia's  glory  is  laid  low  in  the  dust, 
Then  will  Utah,  her  country's  honor  sustain 
And  the  flag  of  our  Union,  unsullied  remain. 


OUR  NATIVE  FLOWERS. 


The  favored  flowers  of  other  lands 
Have  claimed  the  poet's  powers; 

But  let  our  harp  be  tuned  in  praise 
Of  Utah's  native  flowers. 

We've  culled  them  from  the  hilly  slopes, 
From  canyon's  rugged  side, 


102  POEMS. 


From  low  and  mossy  river  banks, 
And  from  the  benches  wide. 

We've  placed  them  in  our  garden  plot, 

And,  growing  side  by  side, 
Their  fragrance  and  their  beauty  are 

Our  pleasure  and  our  pride. 

We've  brought  choice  flowers  from  other  climes 
And  placed  them  near  these  gems, 

Their  mingled  lustre  far  exceeds 
The  costliest  diadems. 

The  flowers  thus  brought  from  distant  lands, 

Suggest  the  thought  so  sweet, 
God's  chosen  ones,  though  scattered  now, 

Together  here  may  meet. 

And  like  the  flowers,  their  varied  gifts, 

Improve  this  sacred  soil, 
Making  the  wilderness  to  bloom, 

Repaying  care  and  toil. 

Father,  we  thank  thee  for  the  flowers 

Thou  hast  so. freely  given, 
And  may  our  constant  effort  be 

To  make  this  earth  a  heaven. 


TO    THE    RELIEF    SOCIE-TY     OF     SPANISH 
FORK. 

Wtitten  in  answer  to  an   invitation   to  a  Social  Re- 
union of  the  Society. 

Dear  sisters,  though  most  anxious,  to  your  dance  I 

cannot  come, 
For,  still  a  prisoner  I'm  held    within    my    bed    at 

home, 


TO  THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY  OF  SPANISH  FORK.          103 


What  pleasure  it  would  give  me  to  meet  with  you  all 
again, 

To  leave  my  bed  once  more,  and  the  weary  sick'ning 
pain  ! 

But,   my  sisters,  I  am  thankful,    altho'   the  body's   j 
weak, 

My  spirit's  strong  and  happier,  than  pen  or  tongue 
can  speak. 

And  tho',  to  meet  you  in  the  dance,  would  give   me 
much  delight, 

I  know,  it  is  impossible,  and  this  is  why  I  write. 

Like  you,  dear  sisters,  I  enjoy  the  work  we  have  to 
do, 

With  you,  I  want  to  labor,  and  to  help  God's  King- 
dom too. 

To  show  my  gratitude  to   Him  who  called  me  by 
His  grace. 

Yet  feel  as  if  this  life's  too  short  to  show    forth    all 
His  praise. 

Each  one  of  us  who  knows  the  gospel  in  its  truth  and 
power, 

And  realize  the  blessing,  which  its  fulness    can    re- 
store, 

Will  feel  how  small  is  the  amount    each    one    alone 
can  do. 

Also  the  need  there  is  for  love,  and    perfect    union 
too. 

The  mission  which  we  have,  is  a  great  and  glorious 
one, 

And  num'rous  blessings  will    accrue,    if   well    and 
nobly  done. 

'Tis   good  that  to     His  daughters,   God  has  given 
work  to  do, 

That  not  alone  His  sons  must  toil  to  bear  His  King- 
dom through. 

To  us  belongs  the  duty,  to  relieve  the  woes  we  see  : 
Even  minist'ring  angels,  we  always  ought  to  be. 


104  POEMS. 


Like  good  Samaritans,  on  hand  with  precious  oil  and 

wine, 
To  make  the  sufferers  hearts  we  meet,  with  joy  and 

gladness  shine. 

We  may  not  see  at  present  all  the  good  our  labors  do, 
But  with  the  blessings  of  the  Lord  the  harvest  time 

will  show, 

Only  let  us  be  one  in  heart,  and  one  in  faith  and  love, 
For  by  this  test  the  Savior  said,  our  love  to  Him  we 

prove. 

j   Evil  will  try  to  work  its  way,  and  all  the    good    de- 
stroy, 
I   And   varied  are  the  arts  and  wiles,   its  agents  will 

employ ; 
But  all  the  powers  thus  brought  to  bear  by  Satan  and 

by  sin, 

Will  not  suffice,  unless  there's   confederacy    within. 
I  didn't  think  to  write  so  much,  but    my    pen    was 

loth  to  stop, 
And  with  reluctance  even  now,  this  pleasing  subject 

drop, 
So  praying  for  God's  peace  to  rest  on   every  one  of 

you, 
With  sisterly  affection,    bid  you  all  a  kind  adieu. 


COMMENT  ON  ACTS,  3rd  CHAP.  6th  VERSE. 

Then  Peter  said,  gold  and  silver  have  1  none  ;  but  such  as  I  have  give  I  thee . 


A  Pontiff  of  Rome,  by  his  full  coffers  stood, 

And  gazed   on   the  treasure  with   which   they  o'er- 

flowed, 

His  holiness  said  to  a  priest  at  his  side, 
"That  the  church  now  is  rich  cannot  be  denied, 
'•'  'Twas  not  thus  in  the  days  of  Peter  and   John, 
"Then,   those  Christians,  of  silver  and    gold    had 

none." 


UTAH. 


The  priest  replied,  "If  wealth  is  measured   by  gold, 
"The  church  is  richer  than  'twas  in  days  of  old, 
"But  though  of  our  greatness  and  riches  we  talk, 
"We  cannot  as  then,  bid  the  lame  man  to  walk, 
"And  unless  her  wealth  can  this  lost  gift  restore, 
"The  church,  with  all  her  silver  and  gold   is  poor." 


UTAH. 

A  Song.  —  Tune — Hazel  Dell. 

Written  for,  and  sung  nt  the  County  (  elebration  of  the  24th  anniversary  of 
the  entrance  of  the  Pioneers  into  Salt  Lake  Valley, -held  in  the  Provo 
Woolen  Factoiy. 


We  celebrate  our  Utah's  birth, 

Glad  let  our  songs  arise 
To  Him  whose  care  has  guarded"  her, 

From  danger  and  surprise. 

Chants — Oh  !  Utah  hath  been  guarded  well, 

From  every  danger  kept, 
For  the  eye  that  watched  and  cared  for  her. 
Has  never,  never  slept. 

Small,  very  small  was  Utah,  then, 
And  watched  by  many  a  foe, 

Yet  though  but  weak,  she  he'd  the  germ 
Of  power  and  greatness  too. — Chorus. 

But  soon  the  nation  jealous  grew, 

Of  Utah's  rising  star  ; 
And  tried  in  vain  their  bolts  to  hurl, 

At  Utah  from  afar. —  Chorus. 

And  why  has  Utah  thus  been  blest? 

Why  has  she  favor  found  ? 
When  mighty  kingdoms  shake  and  bend, 

And  crumble  to  the  ground.  —  Chorus. 


IO6  POEMS. 


Because  the  Lord  of  all  the  earth, 

In  Utah  set  His  throne, 
And  hence  as  ruler  of  the  world, 

Will  have  His  laws  made  known. —  Chorus. 

A  living  Prophet  in  our  midst, 
Reveals  God's  wondrous  plan, 

To  bless,  to  save,  and  to  exalt, 

His  fallen  creature — man. — Chorus. 

And  hither  will  the  honest  flee, 

Ere  the  great  judgments  fall, 
For  every  people,  kindred,  tongue, 

The  voice  of  God  will  call. — Chorus. 

And  to  that  band  of  fearless  men, 

Our  noble  Pioneers, 
Belongs  the  meed  of  song  and  praise, 

Through  all  succeeding  years. — Chorus. 


TO  MRS. 


ON  HEARING  OF  HER  PROTRACTED  ILLNESS. 


Dear  sufFring  one,  do  not  despair, 

Or  think  your  fate  is  hard, 
Altho'  of  health,  great  precious  boon, 

Awhile  you  are  debarred. 
Think,  sister  dear,  of  all  the  good, 

That  daily  crowns  your  lot, 
Tho'  now  you  feel  the  chast'ning  rod, 

Bear  it  and  murmur  not. 

Think  not  our  Father's  ear  is  deaf, 

He  hears  the  feeblest  call, 
Remember,  that  without  His  ken, 

Not  e'en  a  sparrow  falls. 


TO    MRS. 


Soon  this  dark  cloud  will  roll  away, 

And  thou  its  lining  see, 
And  own  it  was  a  loving  hand 

That  has  afflicted  thee. 

To  test  thy  faith  and  make  it  grow, 

Stronger  and  brighter,  till 
Each  thought  and  purpose  of  thy  heart, 

Blend  in  thy  Father's  will. 
Believe  the  p:omises  that  God 

Through  His  own  servants  give, 
And  never  doubt  His  power  thro'  them 

To  bid  you  rise  and  live. 

Sweet  sister,  as  I  pen  the  lines, 

Varied  emotions  well, 
As,  from  the  past  I  lift  the  veil, 

My  own  glad  tale  to  tell. 
Four  years  I  lay  upon  my  bed, 

Saw  seasons  come  and  go, 
Alas  !  to  me  no  change  they  brought, 

I  still  lay  weak  and  low. 

But  after  hope  almost  had  fled, 

And  human  skill  proved  vain, 
The  Loid  displayed  His  mighty  power, 

And  raised  me  up  again. 
Two  oi  his  faithful  servants  laid 

Their  hands  upon  my  head, 
And  humbly,  but  with  mighty  power, 

Spoke  in  their  Master's  stead. 

The  blessing  sought  so  long  had  come, 

'Twas  felt  in  every  vein  ; 
Health  then  returned,  with  all  its  joys, 

And  pleasures  in  its  train. 
You  will  not  wonder  that  my  pen 

And  heart  should  join  in  praise 


Io8  POEMS. 


Of  Israel's  God,  who  has  restored 
The  Gospel  in  our  days. 

I  feel,  that  should  I  hold  my  peace 

The  very  stones  may  well 
Rebuke  my  silence,  and  repeat 

The  words  I  ought  to  tell. 
Sister,  I  pray  that  you  may  soon, 

Health's  priceless  blessing  know, 
And  join  with  me  in  praising  Him, 

From  whom  all  blessings  flow. 


.THE  TWO    DEACONS. 

Let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon  your  wrath.     Eph.  4111-36. 


Two  Deacons  had  quarrelled,  but  neither  had   felt, 
To    retract    the    harsh  words,    which     either    had 

dealt. 
So  all  through  that  day  they  both  stayed   in   their 

home, 
Each  hoping  and  wishing  the  other  would  come. 

TheyHvere   Christians,   and  knew  that  their    Master 

had  said, 

Forgive,  ere  the  sun  shall  have  gone  to  his  bed. 
Yet  often,  and  often,  all  through  that  long  day, 
Each  looked  at  the  sun  as  he  traveled  his  way. 

As  Delf  was  the  younger,  Ward  thought  it  was  fit, 
That  he  of  the  twain,  should  be  first  to  submit ; 
"  Deacon  Ward  is  the  elder,"  thought  Deacon  Delf, 
"  'Twere  better  he  set  the  example  himself." 

Perturbed  and  unhappy,  Ward  paced  the  floor, 
Each  moment  the  sun  sank  lower  and  lower, 
And  he  mentally  said,  "If  I  were  to  blame, 
"I'm  sure  I'd  be  first  to  acknowledge  the  same." 


A    FRAGMENT.  109 


Delf,  from  his  window,  saw  the  sun  descend  low, 
But  his  heart  was  melted  and  penitent  now  ; 
"  How  foolish  I  have  been,"  he  said  with  a  groan, 
"  But  now  for  my  error,  I'll  quickly  atone." 

The  vict'ry  was  gained,  he   had   conquered   himself, 
And  rich  in  humility,  was  Deacon  Delf, 
A  few  moments  more  he  was  out  in  the  road, 
Approaching   the  house  of  his  friend-  Deacon  Ward, 

He  knew  his  friend's  window,  'twas  facing  the  west, 
The  glorious  sun  was  just  sinking  to  rest, 
He  tapped  on  the  pane,  Deacon  Ward  lost  his  frown, 
"Forgive  me,  my  brother,  the  sun's  almost   down." 

Out  rushed  brother  Ward,    "You  have  conquered," 

he  said, 

All  pride  and  resentment  that  moment  had  fled, 
They  shook  hands,  embraced,  a1  d  were  oft  heard  to 

say 
They  never  forgot  the  events  of  that  day. 


A  FRAGMENT. 


We  have  waited  long  for  spring  time, 

But  it  is  come  at  last, 

The  drifting  snow  and  biting  cold 

Are  over  now  and   past. 

The  frost  and  snow  had  bound  the  earth, 

With  fetters  strong  and   deep; 

But  oh  !   'tis  just  awaking  from 

Its  long,  long  winter's  sleep. 

Magician's  art,  or  magic  wand 

Could  ne'er  exert  the  power, 

The  sun's  warm  rays  can  exercise 

O'er  beast  and  bird,  and  flower, 


110  POEMS. 


It  animates  the  insect  world 
Awaking  them  to  glee, 
It  reacheth  every  living  thing 
And  blesses  all  we  see. 


PROVO  WOOLEN  FACTORY. 

WRITTEN  IN  AUTUMN. 


The  leaves  must  all  sere,  and  fall  from  the  trees, 

Their  mission  is  now  to  prepare, 
A  couch  of  rest  on  the  bosom  of  earth, 

For  the  sleep  of  the  waning  year  ; 
The  chill  winds  may  howl  as  they  sweep  along, 

With  a  loud  and  fierce  warning  blast, 
But  the  sound  does  not  fill  our  hearts  with  dread, 

As  'twas  wont  in  years  that  are  past. 
For  often  in  the  days  of  yore, 
Winter  met  us  in  clothing  poor. 

Now,  if  from  those  almost  forgotten  years, 

We  call  memories  from  their  tomb, 
'Tis  but  to  enhance  the  gladness  we  feel, 

For  the  better  days  that  have  come. 
It  forces  a  smile,  as  we  recollect, 

That  we  used  to  feel  so  secure, 
If  a  few  pounds  of  wool  to  make  into  cloth, 

For  winter  we  could  but  procure  ; 
Now  that  the  toil  and  care  are  o'er, 
We  pray  such  times  may  come  no  more. 

Just  think  of  the  lectures  our  children  had, 
If  perchance  their  clothing  they  tore, 

Knowing  full  well,  that  if  these  were  all  gone, 
The  trouble  'twould  be  to  get  more; 

Yet  they  always  were  torn,  no  one  knew  how, 


PROVO    WOOLEN  FACTORY. 


The  little  ones  were  not  to  blame, 
They  did  not  then  wear  our  good  Provo  cloth, 
Or  it  would  not  have  been  the  same. 

To  some,  this  may  a  trifle  seem, 

'Tis  worth  an  abler  pen,  I  deem. 

Big  boys  with  their  elbows  and  knees  all  out, 

Never  did  look  fit  to  be  seen, 
Though  their  mothers  would  stitch  and  patch  all  day, 

'Twas  the  shoddy  at  fault,  I  ween. 
Our  husbands  and  sons  to  the  canyons  went, 

Enduring  the  sharp  biting  cold, 
Of  the  keen  mountain  air  they  had  to  meet, 

In  clothes  that  were  scanty  and  old ; 
Thanks  to  the  Factory,  old  and  young, 
Now  dress  in  clothes  both  warm  and  strong. 

There  might  be  imported  clothes  in  the  stores. 

But  their  price  was  fearfully  high, 
And  Utah's  productions  then  were  not  cash, 

So  it  was  little  we  could  buy  ; 
Now,  a  load  of  wood  will  purchase  a  suit 

That  will  stand  the  racket  and  tear, 
Or  a  nice  warm  shawl,  or  waterproof  dress, 

For  a  wife  or  daughter  to  wear. 

There's  few  in  this  country  I  guess, 
The  Provo  Factory  does  not  bless. 

"  What  a  blessing  the  Provo  Factory  is," 

We  oft  hear  from  many  a  tongue, 
And  heartfelt's  the  prayer  that  to  heaven  ascends, 

For  our  President  Brigham  Young, 
Whose  unceasing  care  for  the  people's  good, 

Had  led  him  this  plan  to  devise, 
Unheeding  obstacles  few  could  surmount, 

Completed  this  great  enterprise. 
Co-workers  with  him,  must  ne'er  be  forgot, 
Are  the  names  of  Bishops  Smoot,  Sheets,  and  Scott. 


POEMS. 


And  now  that  the  scales  hav;  dropped,  we  can  see 

What  we've  been  too  slow  to  perceive, 
The  wonderful  good  which  the  co-op  plan, 

In  a  land  like  this  can  achieve  ; 
And  all  who  desire  our  Utah's  true  weal, 

Hope  soon  the  "good  time,"  they  will  see, 
When  the  people  in  these  mountains  become, 

Self-sustaining,  united  and  free  ; 

And  the  United  Order,  wisely  given, 
Is  practiced  on  earth  as  'tis  in  heaven. 


£  INVOCATION. 

While  I  was  musing,  the  fire  burned. — Psalm  39th — 3 


Sweet  spirit  of  song  !  thou  hast  left  me  awhile, 
And  I  pine  for  thy  bright  warm  genial  smile, 
Without  thee,  time  drags  over  life's  weary  track, 
Dear  spirit  of  song  !  let  me  welcome  thee  back. 
Hast  thou,  like  the  song  birds,  sought  sunnier  climes? 
To  bask  in  the  fragrance  of  myrtles  and  limes  ? 
Or,  like  the  sweet  flowers,  felt  the  frost-king's  breath? 
And  bowed  to  the  power  of  the  grim  tyrant — death? 
Come  back  !  for  I  much  need  thy  glad  presence  now 
That  the  soft  summer  breezes  no  longer  blow, 
No  more  now  the  rill's  gentle  murmur  is  heard, 
Nor  the  air  by  soft  insect  music  is  stirred. 
Come  again,  for  I  know  thy  presence  can  cheer, 
E'en  the  wintry  landscape,  though  gloomy  and  drear. 
Cause  the  sullen  mountains,  a  language  to  speak, 
Though  wrapt  in  their  snow  mantle,  silent  and  bleak. 
From  infancy's  days,  thou  hast  oft  filled  my  breast, 
With  thoughts  either  uttered  or  unexpressed. 
Oft  my  only  companion  in  childhood's  hours, 
I  saw  thy  loved  face  in  the  sweet  wild  flowers; 
Heard  thy  voice  in  the  notes  of  the  lark's  blithe  lays, 


INVOCATION. 


As  he  mounted  on  high  his  Maker  to  praise. 
Till  I  caught  the  refrain,  and,  happy  as  he, 
Thanked  God,  who  had  made  such  a  bright  world  for 

me. 

Thy  presence  was  near  in  the  days  of  my  youth, 
When  'mong  nature's  works  I  was  searching  for  truth; 
And  feeling  its  chaos,  my  sad  spirit  cried 
To  my  Father  in  heaven  through  darkness  to  guide. 

>}c^^^^;  ^c  ^c^a 

Inspiration  !  thy  light  on  the  Bible  shone, 
As  I  read  how  God,  in  past  ages  made  known 
His  great  mind  and  will  from  the  heavens  to  man, 
And  I  learned  of  redemption's  wonderful  plan. 
From  its  pages  I  read  that  Prophets  of  old, 
The  Latter-day  work,  and  its  greatness  foretold  ; 
That  the  Lord  would  again  the  Gospel  restore 
To  the  earth,  to  be  taken  away  no  more. 
The  prophecies  told  of  a  kingdom  and  power, 
Before  which  the  kingdoms  of  earth  should  cower  ; 
That  Messiah  would  come  to  this  world  again 
And   as  king  on  His  throne  forever  would  reign. 
Inspiration  !  thy  loved  voice  alone  can  tell, 
The  rapture  that  over  my  glad  spirit  fell 
When  I  knew,  again  Jehovah  had  spoken, 
The  silence  of  ages  at  length  was  broken. 

Let  the  heavens  be  glad,  and  the  earth  rejoice. 

That  again  we  can  hear  a  true  Prophet's  voice  ; 

Thus  making  God's  will  to  His  people  more  plain, 

That  they  may  prepare  for  His  coming  and  reign. 


114  POEMS. 

"  I  WAS  SICK  AND  YE  VISITED  ME.  " 
Inscribed  with  much  affection  to  Mrs.  Marian  R.  Pratt. 


Sister,  your  words  of  tenderness, 

Had  power  to  soothe  my  pain, 
As,  on  my  fevered  suffering  head, 

They  fell  like  gentle  rain. 

And  even  as  the  genial  shower,. 

Is  to  the  thirsty  earth, 
So,  sympathy  and  love  to  me, 

Are  things  of  priceless  worth. 

My  heart  has  long  been  weaned  from~things 

That  many  prize  the  most ; 
For,  while  but  young,  I  learned  the  joys 

Of  earth,  would  turn  to  dust. 

But  when  the  Gospel's  heavenly  light, 

First  shone  upon  my  way, 
The  spirit  told  of  joys  so  pure, 

They  never  could  decay. 

And  steadily  truth's  lustre  has 

Reflected  on  my  path, 
Enough  to  help  me  cheerfully  bear 

Affliction  on  this  earth. 

My  life  is  very  sweet  to  me, 

Great  joy  my  spirit  feels 
As  God  in  these  the  Latter-days, 

His  wondrous  plan  reveals. 

I've  read  and  treasured  up  the  words 

God's  ancient  prophets  said, 
And  now  His  living  prophet's  words, 

Are  more  than  daily  bread. 


"I  WAS  SICK  AND  YE  VISITED  ME."  115 


But  oh  !  it  does  sometimes  seem  hard 

To  suffer  day  by  day, 
And  know  my  time  for  usefulness 
Is  fleeing  fast  away. 

And  this  is  why  I'm  writing  now, 

'Tis  all  that  I  can  do, 
Though  gladly  would  I  be  employed 

In  active  life  like  you. 

'Tis  sweet  to  toil  from  day  to  day, 
And  know  we're  doing  good, 

By  lessening  the  ills  we  meet, 
Upon  life's  rugged  road. 

Your  kindness  to  the  suffering  ones, 

Your  future  joy  will  be, 
Anon  you'll  hear  your  Saviour  say: 

"Ye  did  it  unto  Me." 

Sister,  you  cannot  realize 
How  good  your  visit's  been  ; 

Welcome,  as  on  some  desert  bare, 
An  oasis  is  seen. 

Your  honored  husband's  visit  too 

Will  be  remembered  long, 
His  words  of  counsel  seemed  to  cheer 

And  make  my  spirit  strong. 

He  blessed  me  in  our  Father's  name, 
Gently  the  words  were  given, 

My  lowly  room  then  was  to  me 
The  very  gate  of  heaven. 

But  seldom  has  our  little  home, 

Held   men   so  truly  great. 
Who've  done  so  much  to  raise  mankind 

Above  their  fallen  state. 


Il6  POEMS. 


It  seems  to  me  this  earth  of  ours, 

Has  few  such  men  as  he, 
And  greatly  blessed  are  those  who  share 

In  his  society. 

Accept  the   heartfelt  gratitude, 
My  pen  would  fain  convey, 

But  wish  indeed,  that  heart  and  pen, 
Could  worthier  tribute  pay. 


JUBILEE  HYMN. 

In  ho  nor  of  the  Seventy-fourth  Anniversary  of 
PRESIDENT  BRIGHAM  YOUNG'S  BIRTHDAY. 

Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Utah  County  Sunday  School  Jubilee,   held  at 
American  Fork,  June  ist,  1875. 

Tune — ' '  Crown  Him. ' '     Charm,  page  4. 


Sing  a  grateful  song  of  praise, 
To  our  God  who  reigns  above, 

Joyful  let  our  voices  raise, 

For  His  watchful  care  and  love. 

Chorus. — Praise,  oh,   praise  the  King  of  glory 
Ye  who  know  the  Gospel  story, 
And  its  holy  light  can  see, 
Keep  this  gladsome  jubilee. 

Let  the  children's  voices  swell, 
With  the  glad  and  happy  strain, 

Till  each  mountain,  plain  and  deil, 
Echo  back  the  sweet  refrain. 


JUBILEE    HYMN. 


117 


Chorus. — Praise,  O,  praise  the  King  of  heaven, 
That  he  has  a  prophet  given, 
And  has  spared  his  life  to  see, 
This  glad  birthday  jubilee. 

Not  for  empty  pomp  and  show, 
Not  to  own  a  tyrant's  sway, 
But  affection,  pure  and  true, 

Prompts  the  tribute  that  we  pay. 
Chorus. — Praise,  O,  praise  the  King  of  heaven,   etc. 

Bring  not  laurels  that  will  fade 
Quickly  as  the  world's  renown, 

For  his  lite-long  deeds  have  made 

For  him,  an  immortal  crown. 
Chorus. — Praise,  O,  praise,  etc. 

Spare  our  Prophet,  Lord,  we  pray, 
Long  the  saints  of  God  to  lead, 
Make  us  willing  to  obey, 

And  the  words  of  life  to  heed. 
Chorus. — Praise,  O,  praise,  etc. 

Shield  him  ever  with  Thine  arm, 
Till  his  mission  here  is  done, 

Crown  him  with  the  victor's  palm, 
In  the  Kingdom  of  Thy  son. 

Chorus. — Crown  him,  crown  him,  King  of  heaven, 
Crown  the  Prophet  Thou  hast  given  ; 
Then,  with  Israel's  millions,   free, 
Keep  eternal  Jubilee. 


Il8  POEMS. 


AUTUMN. 


A  master  hand  has  been  at  work, 

With  rare  artistic  skill, 
And  wrought  a  change  on  nature's  face, 

O'er  valley,  plain  and  hill. 

Where  late  adown  the  mountain  sides, 
Naught  met  the  eye  but  green, 

Now,  benuteous  as  the  rainbow  hues 
The  autumn  tints  are  seen. 

The  orchard,  bright  with  ripening  fruit, 
That  'mid  the  branches  gleam, 

Show  that  no  grudging  hand  hath  dealt, 
The  gifts  with  which  they  teem. 

We  ask,  what  wondrous  magic  art, 

What  great  magician's  wand, 
So  quickly,  silently  hath  brought 

This  change  on  every  hand  ? 

Nature,  munificent  and  grand, 

Thine  is  the  mighty  power, 
And,  seeing  through  it,  nature's  God, 

We  worship  and  adore. 

And  wonder  at  the  lavish  wealth, 

In  such  profusion  spread, 
To  gratify  the  eye  and  taste, 

Besides  "our  daily  bread." 

And  of  thy  gifts,  kind  parent,  this 

Is  not  among  the  least, 
That  through  these  valleys,  Thou  hast  giv'n 
\     Enough  for  man  and  beast. 

.The  smiling  plenty  all  around 
Is  theme  for  joy  and  praise, 
And  cheerfully  the  grateful  heart, 
Its  willing  tribute  pays. 


TO  MY   HUSBAND. 


TO  MY  HUSBAND. 

On   the    Thirtieth  Anniversary  of  our  Wedding-day, 
January  joth,  1881. 


Husband,  dear  husband,  'tis  to  you 

The  muse  directs  this  lay  ; 
Oh,  may  it  not  unwelcome  prove, 

On  this,  our  wedding  day. 
Just  thirty  years,  in  wedlock's  chains 

We've  travelled  hand  in  hand, 
Nor  deemed  its  fetters  hard  to  wear, 

Cemented  by  love's  band. 

Love,  purest  love,  has  ever  shed 

Its  halo  on  our  path, 
Making  e'en  trials,  shared  by  each, 

Unlike  to  things  of  earth  ; 
Its  power  has  enhanced  our  joy, 

Made  pleasure  far  more  sweet, 
Made  sorrow  and  affliction  seem, 

Much  easier  to  meet. 

As  I  review  life's  changing  scene, 
Each  part  looks  fair  and  bright ; 

E'en  wintry  landscapes  take  the  glow, 
Of  summer's  rosy  light. 

Again  I  stand  within  the  church, 
My  chosen  one  beside, 

The  words  are  said,  I  leave  the  place, 
A  thoughtful  happy  bride. 

Words  cannot  tell  the  quiet  joy, 
Which  filled  my  spirit  then, 

The  hopes,  that  in  my  bosom  glowed, 
Defy  the  power  of  pen. 

What  matter  if  the  clouds  have  low' red, 
Suppose  the  rain  has  dimmed, 


POEMS. 


They  could  not  long  obscure  a  path, 
With  purest  diamonds  gemmed. 

Each  year  has  brought  its  quota  fair 

Of  what  we  prize  the  most, 
For  simple  have  our  wishes  been, 

And  firm  has  been  our  trust ; 
True  to  each  other,  and  our  God, 

Casting  on  Him  our  care, 
Life's  storms  may  beat,  but  cannot  shake, 

Our  anchor,  hope  and  prayer. 

Thus,  from  the  rainbow  of  the  past, 

The  present  takes  its  hue, 
And,  on  the  future,  throws  a  light, 

Subdued  and  trustful  too.    . 
Though  youth,  and  prime  of  life  are  gone, 

Who  knows  but  its  decline, 
Rich  in  the  wisdom  of  the  past, 

With  holier  wealth  may  shine  ! 

Our  children  !  oh,  what  priceless  links, 

They  form  in  wedlock's  chain, 
How  happy  in  their  love,  to  know 

We  have  not  lived  in  vain. 
But  husband  dear,  how  shall  I  close  ? 

How  tell  of  all  my  love  ? 
How  say  to  you  my  gratitude  ? 

Or  how  its  debt  remove  ? 

Frail   mortal  words  cannot  express 

Passions  that  are  divine, 
But  know  the  heart  thou  gain'dst  in  youth, 

Is  now  and  ever  thine  ; 
Love's  eyes  must  read  this  humble  rhyme, 

Nor  scorn  my  simple  theme, 
For,  in  its  light,  all  things  though  plain, 

With  life  and  beauty  teem. 


WHEN    I'M    HAPPY.  121 


WHEN  I'M  HAPPY. 


Shall  I  tell  you  when  I'm  happy? 

When  life  to  me  seems  very  sweet? 
It  is  when  evening  shadows  fall, 

And  we  around  the  fireside  meet. 

'Tis  when  the  children  gather  home, 

From  school,  from  labor,  and  from  play; 

When  little  tongues  all  are  telling, 

What  they  have  done  or  learned  to-day. 

When  each  want  and  wish  is  cared  for, 

Or  little  sorrows  put  to  flight, 
Their  childish  troubles     all   forgot, 

And  every  little  heart  is  light. 

"Now  tell  us,  Ma,  some  pretty  tale, 
"  Some  Bible  story  that  you  know, 

"  Tell  us  about  the  mighty  men, 

"  Who  lived  a  long,  long  time  ago.  " 

From  memory's  store  is  hunted  up, 

Some  story  to  amuse  or  teach, 
Some  useful  lesson,  thus  is  taught, 

Some  truth,  which  thus  the  heart  may  reach. 

The  anxious  look,  the  listening  ear, 
The  tear  which  from  the  eye  will  steal, 

The  eager  questions  which  they  ask, 
Will  tell  how  soon  a  child  can  feel. 

But  little  eyes  will  sleepy  grow, 

And,  like  the  flowers,  begin  to  close, 

Like  little  birds,  they  seek  their  nests, 
For  little  forms  will  need  repose. 

The  sweet  good-night,  and  loving  kiss, 
The  arms  that  fondly  twine  around, 

Bring  to  my  heart  such  happiness 
And  joy,  as  nowhere  else  is  found. 


15 


122  POEMS. 


TO  ELDER  GEO.  W  WILKINS, 

On  his  departure  to  England  on  a  mission    to  preach 
the  Gospel. 


You're  going  to  visit  the  land  of  my  birth, 
That  spot,  once  the  dearest  to  me  on  the  earth, 
Dear  still,  through  the  friends  that  behind  have  been 

left, 
Still  loved,  as  my   dead,  there  for  ages  have    slept. 

To  that  now  distant  land,  my  mind  often  turns, 
For  her  people,  my  spirit  in  anguish  yearns,    • 
For  full  well  I  know  how  her  poor  are  oppressed, 
How  sad  is  their  lot,  and  how  sorely  distressed. 

You  will  go  to  the  poor,  the  honest,  the  meek, 
To  those  who  for  truth  and  for  righteousness  seek, 
You'll  preach  them  the  Gospel,  yourself  love  so  well, 
Of  the  freedom  and  peace  of  this  land  you'll  tell. 

'Tis  a  noble  mission,  on  which  you  now  go, 
A  labor  the  angels  might  envy   you  too  ; 
You  go  in  your  Master's  great  name  to  declare 
Salvation's  glad  tidings  to  all  who  will  hear. 

And  oh  !  may  you  gain  many  sheaves  for  your  hire, 
And  accomplish  the  good  we  all  most  desire, 
Enjoy  the  good  spirit,  where'er  you  may  be, 
Be  guarded  from  danger,  by  land  and  by  sea. 

Then  farewell,  dear  brother,  'tis  needless  to  say, 
Please  think  of  us  sometimes,  while  you  are  away, 
Though  absent  in  body,  your  thoughts  oft  will  roam 
To  the  friends  you'  ve  left  in  your  lov'd  mountain  home. 

As  saints,  we  must  not  have  a  parting  regret, 
But  friends  of  long  standing  we  cannot  forget, 
We'll  think  of  the  good  time  that  yet  is  to  come, 
When  again  in  our  midst  we  welcome  you  home. 


PIONEER    DAY. 

PIONEER  DAY. 

Written  July  241/1.    1877. 


123 


The  day  should  be  remembered  long, 

That  gave   our   Utah  birth, 
And  handed  down  to  every  age, 

'Mong  sacred  days  of  earth. 

Oh  !  never  may  our  watch  fires  burn 

Too  low  to  allow  a  flame 
Of  holy  joy  and  praise  to  rise 

At  mention  of  its  name. 

Dear  Twenty-fourth  !   thy  morning  broke, 
Where  none  but  Indians  roam  ; 

Night  closed  upon  a  pilgrim  band, 
Who  for  truth's  sake  had  come. 

And  now  within  these  western  wilds, 

To  make  a  home  essayed, 
Where  they  could  serve  the  God  of  heaven 
And  none  make  them  afraid. 

This  land,  so  long  a  barren  waste, 

Soon  yielded  to  the  plow, 
And  industry,  in  faith  begun, 

The  soil  to  plant  and  sow. 

The  blessings  of  our  Father,  God, 

Upon  the  land  was  shed, 
That  Israel's  multitudes  who  come, 

In  plenty  may  be  fed. 

The  dew,  the  rain,  and  mountain  streams, 

Have  freely  lent  their  aid, 
And  bounteous  nature,  at  their  call, 

A  liberal  tribute  paid. 


124  POEMS. 


For  us,  the  elements  afford, 
Meat,  honey,  wine  and  milk, 

And,  in  their  varying  change  they  give 
Wool,  cotton,  hemp  and  silk. 

Delicious  fruits  our  gardens  grace, 
Flowers  shed  their  sweets  around, 

While,  in  our  fields  the  staff  of  life, 
The  precious  grains  abound. 

New  cities,  towns  and  hamlets  rise, 
Mines  open  up  their  wealth, 

And  Utah's  thousands  now  enjoy, 
Peace,  liberty  and  health. 

Forgive  me,  if  I  linger  long, 

On  theme  I  love  so  well, 
Theme,  that  would  take  an  angel's  pen, 

In  proper  guise  to  tell. 

How  rich  we  are,  how  greatly  blest  ! 

Around,  on  every  hand, 
We  see  God's  watchful  care  and  love, 

Guarding  this  chosen  land; 

Shielding  from  harm,  or  warding  off 

Each  often  threat' ning  ill, 
'Till  Utah,  in  her  strength  has  grown, 

And  lives,  and  prospers  still. 

Oh  !  may  our  Utah  ever  shine, 

In  all  that's  good  and  fair, 
And  may  she  never  cease  to  own 

Our  Heavenly  Father's  care. 


RE-UNION  OF  THE  Y.   L.   M.   I.  A.  125 


MUTABILITY. 


'Tis  a  world  of  change  ;  but  yesterday 

The  flowers  in  the  garden  were  bright  and  gay. 

To-day,  they  droop  like  an  army  slain, 

And  we  only  view  them  with  feelings  of  pain. 

Some  had  succumbed  to  the  early  frost, 

And,  saving  to  memr'y,  have  long  been  lost, 

Others  more  hardy,  braving  each  storm, 

Stood  proudly  erect  in  their  beauty  and  form. 

I  watched  o'er  my  pets  with  pride  and  joy, 

Not  dreaming  alas,  that  the  frost  would  destroy. 

It  came  in  the  night  with  silent  tread, 

And  numbered  my  favorites  among  the  dead  ; 

Heedless  alike  of  color  or  age, 

Destroying  their  beauty  in  every  stage. 

The  bud  just  formed,  the  full  blown  flower, 

Alike  had  to  bow  to  its  mighty  power, 

Fit  emblem,  the  frost,  with  blighting  breath 

To  the  king  of  terrors,  the  dread  monster,  death. 

But  the  thoughts  that  my  spirit  oppressed, 

Soon  gave  place  to  a  gladness,  that  filled  my  breast, 

At  thought  of  the  time  frost  will  not  come, 

When  perennially  the  flowers  will  bloom. 


RE-UNION  OF  THE  Y.  L.  M.  I.  A. 

Written  at  the  request  of  Mrs.  M.  J.  Morrison,  Pres- 
ident/or the  second  anniversary  of  the  Association, 
Spanish  Fork,  April  2nd,  1877. 

With  joyful  hearts  we've  met  again, 

To  celebrate  this  day, 
And  to  the  giver  of  all  good, 

Our  best  devotion  pay. 


126  POEMS. 


We  thank  him  that  our  lives  are  spared 

Again  in  peace  to  meet, 
And  interchange  our  thoughts  and  words, 

In  this  reunion  sweet. 

We  praise  Him  for  the  daily  good, 

His  hand  in  mercy  showers, 
For  special  blessings  granted  us» 

In  this  dear  land  of  ours. 

So  blest  above  all  other  lands, 

Since  here,  and  here  alone, 
A  chosen  Prophet  of  the  Lord, 

His  will  to  us  makes  known. 

'Tis  here  a  temple  has  been  reared, 

To  Israel's  mighty  king, 
Which,  to  the  living  and  the  dead 

Will  endless  blessings  bring. 

Oh  !  truly  we,  dear  sisters,  are 

Among  the  greatly  blest, 
And  knowing  this,  we  each  should  try 

To  do  our  duty  best. 

Each  of  us  has  a  mission  here, 

And  life  is  very  short, 
Then  how  important  'tis  to  us, 

To  employ  it  as  we  ought. 

To  seek  for  wisdom  from  above, 

That  all  we  hear  may  tend, 
To  fit  us  for  the  life  that  is, 

And  that  which  ne'er  will  end. 


WE  ARE  MARCHING    ON.  127 


WE  ARE  MARCHING  ON. 

Written  for  the  Spanish    Fork   Sunday   School,    and 

sung  at  the  Utah  County  Sunday  School  Jubilee, 

held  at  Payson  City,  July  24^1^,   i8j6. 


Turie.  —  We're  Marching  On.  —  Charm,  Page  124. 


We   are  marching   on  !   we  are  marching 
on  ! 

A  little  Mormon  band  ; 
We  seek  to  know  and  please  God,  too, 

In  this,  His  chosen  land, 
Where  sin,  and  all  its  ills  should  cease, 

And  ignorance  must  flee 
Before  the  might  of  Gospel  light, 

And  the  truth  will  make  us  free. 

Chorus. — We  are   marching   on  !   we   are   marching 

on  ! 

And  though  the  way  be  long, 
We'll  keep  it  bright,  with  faith  by  night, 
And  glad  by  day  with  song. 

We  are  marching   on  !  we   are  marching 
on  ! 

A  glad  and  happy  throng, 
Who  love  the  truth,  and  in  our  youth, 

Would  help  its  cause  along, 
We'll  show  our  gratitude  to  those 

Who've  taught  us  what  is  right ; 
And  never  stray  from  wisdom's  way, 

But  keep  it  day  and  night. — Chorus. 

We  are   marching  on  !   we  are  marching 
on  ! 

And  call  on  old  and  young, 
On  every  hand,  in  every  land, 

From  every  clime  and  tongue, 


128  POEMS. 


To  come  with  us  our  God  to  serve, 

And  learn  His  mind  and  will, 
Where  He  will  guide  what'er  betide 
With  revelation  still. — Chorus. 

We  are  marching  on  !  we  are  marching  on 

Then  come  with  us  and  raise, 
Your  voice  to  swell,  the  song  to  tell. 

Of  our  Redeemer's  praise, 
Till  all  the  pure  in  heart  shall  know 

The  Gospel's  power  to  save  ; 
Our  flag,  unfurled,  before  the  world, 

Shall  never  cease  to  wave. — Chorus. 


TO  MRS.  S.  M.  HEYWOOD. 

SALT  LAKE  CITY. 


The  waters  of  sorrow  are  troubled  and  deep, 
Through  which  I  am  now  called  to  go, 

While  'round  me  the  billows  dash  angry  and  loud 
As  if  threatening  to  overflow. 

Yet  I  shall  not  sink,  for  my  feet  are  placed  firm 

On  a  rock  that  cannot  remove ; 
And  though  sorely  battered,  I  lean  on  the  arm 

Of  One,  who  Almighty  will  prove. 

It  is  hard  sometimes,  in  the  mists  that  enshroud, 

To  discern  a  glimmer  of  light ; 
But  anon,  in  the  gloom,  the  small  voice  is  heard 

"Struggle  on  and  all  will  be  right." 

And  then,  oh !  how  welcome  and  sweet  at  such  times 

Is  the  kind  encouraging  word, 
That  friendship  can  offer,  or  love  can  suggest, 

And  oh !  with  what  gladness  'tis  heard. 


A  PLEA  FOR  THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY.  129 


But  words  fail  to  express  how  grateful  I  feel, 

For  the  comfort  your  note  contains  ; 
It  spoke  to  my  spirit,  so  wounded  and  sore, 

And  soothed  the  dull  wearying  pains. 

Perhaps,  when  the  thick  cloud   of  trouble   rolls   off, 

And  the  sun  is  shining  again. 
I  yet  may  emerge  from  the  darkness  and  gloom, 

And  indulge  in  a  happier  vein. 

Till  then,  dearest  sister,  accept  my  warm  thanks, 

'Tis  all  I  can  offer  to  you ; 
That  the  choicest  blessings  may  rest  on  you  all, 

Is  the  prayer  of  yours, — adieu. 


A  PLEA  FOR  THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY. 

Written  at  the  request  of  Mrs.  Rhoda  Snell,  first  Pres- 
ident of  the  Relief  Society  of  Spanish  Fork  and  read 
at  the  celebration  of  the  24th  of  July,  i86j. 

Gather  up  the  fragments,  that  nothing  be  lost.     John,  Chap.  VI.  ver.  12. 


Let  us  gather  up  the  fragments, 
That  nothing  may  be  lost, 

And  never  mind  how  trifling,  or 
How  small  may  be  their  cost. 

Economy  is  heaven's  law, 

Let  us  observe  and  see  ; 
A  tiny  drop,  a  single  grain, 

Each  of  some  use  can  be. 

Union  is  strength,  and  when  we  meet 

And  in  one  cause  unite, 
Much  may  be  done  to  help  and  bless, 

And  make  the  burden  light. 


16 


130  POEMS. 


We  bring  our  little  bits  of  cloth, 

Our  bunch  of  wool  or  thread  ; 
And  busy  fingers  work  awhile; 

And  soon  a  quilt  is  made. 

We  give  our  mite  the  poor  to  help, 

Their  pressing  wants  relieve, 
But  do  we  realize  how  much, 

We  each  from  God  receive  ? 

On  this  glad  day,  when  through  these  vales, 

The  saints  with  joy  have  met, 
Can  we  while  pleasure  thrills  the  heart, 

The  absent  ones  forget  ? 

Our  people  now  in  distant  lands, 
Would  glad  these  blessings  share, 

And  from  them  oft,  for  help  from  us, 
Ascends  the  fervent  prayer. 

Oppressed  with  poverty,  they  sigh, 

While  sin  and  crime  abound  ; 
And  evils  now  unknown  to  us, 

Encompass  them  around. 

By  us  a  Prophet's  voice  is  heard, 

Our.  eyes  can  see  his  face, 
Would  they  not  prize  above  all  joys, 

In  Zion's  land  a  place  ? 

Perhaps  the  little  we  have  done, 

Is  registered  on  high, 
And,  when  the  books  at  last  are  read 

Will  not  unnoticed  lie. 

But  do  we  each  give  all  we  can 

When  any  call  is  made  ? 
Or  is  our  first  desire  to  know 

How  little  can  be  paid  ? 


A    PRAYER. 


Does  it  sometimes  seem  hard  to  part 
With  what  we  earn  so  dear  ? 

As  Saints  of  God  we  ought  to  live 
Above  all  selfish  fear. 

'Tis  faith  alone,  can  understand 

'1  he  charge  so  wisely  given, 
(Though  some  may  fear  to  run  the  risk,) 

"  Lay  treasures  up  in  Heaven." 


A  PRAYER. 

Written  Jan  8th,  1872,  on  the  occasion  of  President 

Brigham  Young  being  arraigned  before  Chief Jus- 

tice  James  jB.  McKean  on  a  charge  of  murder. 

Low  at  thy  feet,  oh,  Lord  of  Hosts  we  bow, 
And  ask  Thee  to  regard  our  Prophet  now  ; 
Save  him,  our  Father,  from  those  wicked  men, 
As  Thou  didst  Daniel,  in  the  lion's  den. 

Thousands  of  Israel,  on  their  bended  knee, 
With  hearts  sincere  are  looking  up  to  Thee, 
Praying,  that  in  this  dark  and  threat'ninghour, 
Thou  wouldst  now  make  known  Thy  mighty  power. 

Hush  Thou  the  tumult  in  Thy  people's  breast, 
For  now  they  feel  how  sorely  they're  oppressed  ; 
He,  whom  we  love,  our  dearest  earthly  friend, 
Is  made  a  pris'ner  by,  a  human  fiend. 

The  man  renowned  for  deeds  of  noble  worth, 
Than  whom,  no  purer  dwells  on  Thy  broad  earth, 
Accused  of  crimes  at  which  the  soul  revolts. 
Before  a  "  ring  "  of  lying  sensual  dolts. 


132  POEMS. 


To-day,  Thy  servant  Brigham  meets  his  foes, 

On  charges,  every  child  in  Utah  knows 

Are  false  and  foul,  as  those  from  whom  they  come ; 

Thus  innocence  from  guilt  must  hear  its  doom. 

And  will  Columbia,  proud  nation,  stain 
Its  honor  with  a  blot  that  will  remain  ? 
And  can  her  rulers  now  look  on  and  see 
This  outrage  on  their  boasted  liberty? 

O,  Lord,  arise  !  and  let  the  nation  see, 
That  this,  its  controversy,  is  with  Thee, 
Thy  Saints,  strive  only  to  obey  Thy  laws, 
Fulfil  their  duties,  and  maintain  Thy  cause. 


TO  MRS.  MARY  ANN  JONES. 

Smithfield,    Cache   Co. 


My  ever  dear  friend,  I  only  can  say 
In  excuse  for  my  seeming  neglect, 

That  I  did  not  know  you  cared  for  my  rhymes, 
Or  a  word  from  my  pen  would  expect. 

Forgive  me  this  time,  in  future  I'll  try 
And  not  give  you  just  cause  to  complain, 

I  prize  the  gift  that  on  me  is  bestowed, 
And  desire  to  give  pleasure,  not  pain. 

Words  fail  to  tell  the  delight  it  has  been, 
Through  long  years  of  suffering  and  pain, 

To  rise,  like  the  lark,  in  its  morning  song, 
And  find  vent  in  the  jubilant  strain. 

'Tis  best  to  extract  all  the  sweet  we  can, 
Nor  repine  if  life's  journey  is  rough, 

'Tis  wisdom  to  look  on  the  brightest  side, 
We  are  sure  to  have  darkness  enough. 


BEAUTIFUL  .MOUNTAIN  HOME.  133 


We  each  have  our  own  peculiar  ills, 
^   ^Vhile  each  heart  its  own  bitterness  knows, 
'Till  it  seems  as  if  we  surely  must  sink, 
'Neath  the  weight  of  our' manifold  woes. 

Then  out  from  the  depths  of  sorrow  and  pain, 
Comes  the  earnest,  and  powerful  prayer; 

And  we  cast  our  trouble  and  care  on  One, 
Who  is  able  and  willing  to  bear. 

Oh  !   can  we  not  see  that  Infinite  love, 
Directs  all  our  affairs  here  below, 

Let  us  trust  that  love,  while  here  we  remain, 
'Till  again  to  God's  presence  we  go. 


BEAUTIFUL  MOUNTAIN  HOME. 

Written  for  the  Spanish  Fork  Sundav  School. 

Tune— Beautiful  Home  Above.     American  Tune  Book,  page  351. 

Oh  !  how  my  spirit  loveth  thee, 

Beautiful  mountain  home, 
Here  I  can  dwell  from  bondage  free, 

Beautiful  mountain  home. 
Within  these  happy  vales  of  light, 
Adorned  with  virtues  pure  and  bright, 
I'll  dwell  with  those  who  do  what's  right, 

In  my  mountain  home. 

Chorus — Beautiful  mountain  home  ! 
Beautiful  mountain  home  ! 
O,  help  me  Lord,  to  do  Thy  will, 
In  my  beautiful  mountain  home. 

Thy  peace  I  seek,  and  daily  pray, 
Beautiful  mountain  home  ; 


134  POEMS. 


For  strength  to  walk  the  narrow  way, 

Beautiful  mountain  home ; 
My  mind  will  seek  from  learning's  lore, 
What  those  have  taught  who  went  before, 
And  gain  what's  for  the  good  in  store, 

In  my  beautiful  home. — Chorus. 

Thy  glorious  future  now  I  see, 

Beautiful  mountain  home; 
The  city  where  the  just  shall  be, 

Beautiful  mountain  home. 
And  I  will  keep  my  longing  eyes 
Intently  fixed  upon  the  prize, 
'Till  Zion  in  her  beauty  rise, 

My  happy,  happy  home. 

Chorus — Beautiful  mountain  home  ! 
Beautiful  mountain  home  ! 
O,  help  me  Lord  to  do  Thy  will, 
In  my  happy, happy  home. 


TO  MRS.  MARY  ISAACS. 

On   the   Thirty-Ninth  Anniversary  of  her  Birthday, 
April  2$th,  1880. 


Dear  friend,  accept  the  tribute  due, 
Which  now  my  pen  would  offer  you, 
Accept  the  wish  and  heartfelt  prayer, 
That  God  may  make  your  life  His  care, 
And  spare  you  yet,  many  a  year, 
To  those  to  whom  you  are  most  dear. 

In  honoring  Polygamy, 

The  Lord  will  bless  and  honor  thee ; 

WilPprosper  thee  forever  more, 


LEAD  ME  TO  THE  ROCK. 


135 


Alike  in  basket  and  in  store ; 
Much  of  His  goodness  you  will  see, 
In  this  glad  year  of  Jubilee. 

Sustain  thy  husband,  help  him,  too, 
Since,  on  a  mission  called  to  go, 
Do  thou  thy  best  to  cheer  him  up, 
Nor  add  one  drop  to  sorrow's  cup. 
Only  be  faithful,  do  not  doubt 
God's  peace  will  compass  you  about. 

I  sympathize  with  him  and  you — . 
And  each  one  of  his  household,  too, 
For  all  will  keenly  feel  the  smart, 
E'en  for  a  little  while  to  part; 
But  may  each  see  their  t  uty  plain, 
Nor  ever  murmur  or  coir  plain. 

So  ,  wishing  you  many  returns  of  the  day, 
I  will  put  my  pen.  ink  and  paper  away. 


•LEAD  ME  TO  THE  ROCK. 

When  my  heart  is  overwhelmed,  lead  me  to  the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I. 
Psalm  61 — 2  verse. 


When  my  spirit  with  sorrow  is  overwhelmed, 
Then,  from  out  of  the  depths  comes  the  cry, 

As  my  earthly  friends  leave  me,  lead  me  I  pray. 
"  To  the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I.  " 

As  my  children,  by  death,  are  called  from  my  arms, 
To  their  Father  and  Mother  on  High ; 

Then,  all  lonely  and  weak,  I  pray  to  be  led, 
"  To  the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I.  " 

In  affliction's  dark  hour,  when  heart  and  flesh  fail, 
And  temptations  my  faith  sorely  try, 


136  POEMS. 


Then,  more  earnest  I  cling,  for  strength  and  defense, 
"  To  the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I.  " 

i    If  prosperity  sheds  its  light  on  my  path, 

And  kind  friends,  to  encourage,  are  nigh, 
In  thanksgiving  and  praise,  I  ever  am  led, 
"To  the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I.  " 

When  I  seek  at  earth's  cisterns,  my  thirst  to  assuage, 

And  find  them  all  broken  and  dry, 
Then  lead  me  I  pray,  for  the  life-giving  draught, 

"  To  the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I." 

Or,  when  persecution  and  trouble  assail, 
And  their  arrows  are  swift  hurling  by, 

I  fear  not  the  shafts  ;  while  for  shelter  I'm  led 
"  To  the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I.  " 

E'en  death,  the  last  enemy  cannot  destroy, 

While  upon  a  strong  arm  I  rely  ; 
The  Priesthood  eternal  is  leading  me  on, 

"  To  the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I.  " 


WINTER. 


Stern  winter  has  come,  with  its  chilling  breath, 
Nature  is  touch'd  by  the  finger  of  death. 
The  flowers  that  lately  were  blooming  gay 
Felt  its  cold  breath,  and  have  withered  away. 

The  sweet  birds  of  song  have  taken  their  flight, 
To  regions  where  flowers  and  sunshine  are  bright, 
Insects  and  reptiles  are  hid  in  repose, 
Far  out  of  reach  of  the  frost  and  the  snows. 

The  picture's  sad,  and  our  spirits  would  droop, 
Were't  not  that  the  future  is  cheered  by  hope, 


JULY   24TH,    1872.  137 


Which  bids  us  remember,  that  winter  drear, 
Must  give  place  to  spring,  with  pleasures  so  dear. 

This  makes  us  think,  how  our  Father  in  Heaven, 
Enjoyment  in  every  season  hasgiv'n, 
The  summer,  the  autumn,  winter  and  spring, 
Much  good  in  their  change  to  us  ever  bring. 


JULY  24th,  1872. 


The  Twenty-fourth  again  is  here, 

The  gladdest  day  of  all  the  year, 

And  from  our  heart's  deep  fountains  spring, 

Our  heartfelt  thanks,  to  God  our  King. 

We've  watched  our  young  and  rising  state, 
First  small,  but  daily  growing  great, 
'Till  now  we  feel  an   honest  pride, 
To  be  with  her  identified. 

Twenty-five  years  have  wonders  done, 
Yet  Utah  has  but  just  begun  ; 
And  humbly,  gratefully  we  say, 
Thank  God  for  what  she  is  to-day. 

From  Him  has  come  the  mind  and  sense, 
The  governing  power,  intelligence, 
And  wisdom  that  has  made  our  state, 
Now  honored  'mong  the  nations  grant. 

Utah  has  had  the  uphill  grade, 
•  Through  difficulties  great  to  wade, 
Yet  through  them  all,  the  giant  stride, 
Shows  how  her  foes  were  all  defied. 

Onward  and  upward,  bright  and  clear, 
From  day  to  day,  from  year  to  year, 


138  POEMS. 


Yet  steadily  advancing  on, 
Pursuing  right,  avoiding  wrong. 

We  ask,  what  will  her  future  be 

But  happy,  glorious  and  free? 

Though  clouds  may  low'r,  and  threaten  yet, 

Our  Utah's  sun  will  never  set. 


MUSINGS. 


I  often  think,  in  my  musings, 

How  happy  our  frail  lives  would   be, 
If  instead  of  the  dark  side  of  things, 
Their  bright  side,  we  always  could  see. 

We've  need  of  all  the  sweet  sunshine 
We  can  get  on  life's  gloomy  way, 

Oh !  then  let  us  catch  ev'ry  glimpse, 
Of  its  bright  and  fast  fleeting  ray. 

In  every  condition  of  life, 

Whatever  our  trials  below, 
Thrice  happy  to  us  is  the  thought, 

Of  "Father,"  to  whom  we  may  go. 

Suppose,  in  the  fog  that  surrounds, 

We've  happened  to  take  the  wrong  road, 

Let's  seek  till  we  find  the  right  gate, 
Thafcleadsto  our  Father's  abode. 

Look  not  wistfully  to  the  past, 
Which  can  never  return  again, 

'Tis  vain  to  brood  o'er  thoughts  that  fill 
The  present  with  sorrow  and  pain. 

If  childhood's  days  were  pure  and  free, 
If  youth  had  been  happy  and  clear, 


SONG DESERET. 


Why  should  its  lustre  be  tarnished 
By  the  bitter  regretful  tear. 

Should  sickness  spread  o'er  us  its  shade, 
Where  health  was  accustomed  to  bloom, 

Let's  think  of  the  land  that's  before, 
Where  dread  sickness  never  can  come. 

Should  our  lot  be  sorrow  and  .grief, 

Repining  will  surely  be  vain, 
We  never  have  more  than  our  share, 

Of  grief's  bitter  measure  to  drain. 

And  often,  in  draining  the  dregs, 

Joy's  sweet,  purest  drop  we  may  find, 

When  the  clouds  of  sorrow  roll  off, 
The  silver  lined  cloud  lies  behind. 


SONG— DESERET. 

Tune — Brattle  Street — American  Tune  Book,  page  156. 

My  heart  is  with  thee,  Deseret, 
Thy  people  are  my  choice, 

And  I  will  sing  thy  praises  yet, 
With  glad  and  joyful  voice. 

Chorus — Oh  !  Deseret,  dear  Deseret ! 

Home  of  the  saints,  how  dear; 
To  all  whose  hearts  on  truth  are  set, 
Thy  beauties  now  appear. 

I  love  thy  mountains,  Deseret, 

Their  grand  sublimity ; 
And  never  will  my  heart  regret, 

Its  choice,  dear  land  of  thee. — Chorus. 

I  love  thy  valleys,  Deseret, 
All  that  belongs  to  thee 


140  POEMS. 


Are  things  on  which  my  mind  is  set, 
Thou  art  most  dear  to  me. — -Chorus, 
• 

I  love  thy  freedom,  Deseret, 
My  soul  delights  in  thee  ; 

Here  light  and  truth,  and  peace  have  met 
In  sweet  simplicity. — Chorus. 

I  love  tl^y  sabbaths,  Deseret, 

'Tis  joy  beyond  degree 
To  hear  the  words  of  life  made  known 

In  truth  and  purity. — Choi  us. 

I  love  thy  future,  Deseret, 

The  eye  of  faith  can  see, 
Tho'  clouds  may  hang  around  thee  yet, 

Endless  thy  joys  will  be. — Chorus. 

Blest  are  thy  people,  Deseret, 

Favored  of  God  art  thou, 
Thy  friends  shall  glory  in  thee  yet, 

Thy  foes  to  thee  shall  bow. — Chorus. 


TRUTH. 


Truth  stood  on  a  pedestal, — fair  ajid  high, 
Nor  flinched,  as  the  arrows  of  falsehood  sped  by, 
Around  him,  its  squibs  and  crackers  were  hurled, 
Yet  boldly  he  stood,  defying  the  world. 

Calmly  he  smiled  at  the  gathering  crowd, 
At  the  great  swelling  words,  portentious  and  loud, 
Which  falsehood's  vile  minions  were  trying  to  shower, 
To  destroy  from  this  earth,  this  much  dreaded  power. 

But  their  missiles  were  harmless,  tho'  aim'd  at  him, 
They  failed  his  beauty  or  brightness  to  dim, 
Still  proudly  he  stood,  as  the  crestfallen  throng, 
With  purpose  defeated,  moved  sadly  along. 


WELCOME.  141 


WELCOME. 

Written  at  the  request  of  sister  Mary  A.  McLean, 
President  of  the  Primary  Association  of  Spanish  Fork, 
in  anticipation  of  the  visit  of  sisters  Loui  Felt,  Mary 
A.  Freeze,  Clara  Y.  Conrad,  Zina  Y.  Williams, 
Nancy  Snwot,  and  Mary  J.  Johns  ;  to  attend  the  2nd 
anniversary  of  the  Primary  Association  of  Spanish 
Fork,  Oct.  2jrd,  1880,  and  read  on  that  occasion. 


We  welcome  you  to  Spanish  Fork, 
With    welcome  warm  and  true, 

And  most  hearty  is  the  greeting, 
We  now  extend  to  you. 

"Tis  very  pleasant,  thus  to  meet, 

Amid  lite's  busy  throng, 
With  those,  who  like  ourselves  desire, 

To  help  God's  work  along. 

Who  do  not  grudge  the  time  and  means, 
That  in  truth's  cause  is  spent, 

But  daily  strive  with  hearts  sincere, 
And  steady  purpose  bent, 

To  fill  the  various  missions  which 

To  each  has  been  assigned, 
All  differing,  yet  their  end  the  same, 

To  instruct  the  human  mind. 

Some  have  to  guide  the  little  feet, 

•  Within  the  narrow  way, 
That  from  the  path  that  leads  to  God, 
They  may  not  go  astray. 

Others  the  pleasing  duty  find, 

To  teach  the  rising  youth, 
That  they  may  in  their  turn  become 

Champions  for  the  truth. 


142  POEMS. 


The  sick,  the  needy,  and  the  poor 

Claim  our  especial  care, 
Our  love,  our  sympathy  and  aid, 

Our  blessing  and  our  prayer. 

This  wondrous  work  of  Latter-days 

Is  fitted  to  engage, 
The  head,  the  heart,  the  hands  and  voice 

Of  every  sex  and  age. 

The  Gospel  field  is  very  large, 

The  faithful  lab'rors  few; 
Then  is  there  not  enough,  enough, 

For  all  of  us  to  do  ? 

Each  heart  responds,   there  is  enough 

Of  work  around  us  spread, 
In  which  each  faithful  saint  can  help, 

The  living  and  the  dead. 

Then  let  us  each,  to  whom  is  given 

One  talent  to  employ, 
So  wisely  use,  that  it  may  be 

Our  glory  and  our  joy, 

Perhaps  the  little  we  can  do, 

May  to  our  Father  show, 
That  we  appreciate  the  debt 

Of  gratitude  we  owe. 

We  trust  your  little  visit  here 

To  you  and  us  may  prove, 
A  happy  interchange  of  thought 

Of  friendship  and  of  love. 

That  you  may  take  back  to  your  homes 
Some  kindly  thought  from  here, 

That  we  may  hold  your  memory  sweet, 
Our  interview  most  dear. 


SONG— STRIVE  FOR  THE  RIGHT. 


SONG— STRIVE  FOR  THE  RIGHT. 

Written  for  the  Utah  County  Sunday   School  Jubilee. 

Tune— On    to   the  Goal.     Charm,  Page  70. 

Strive  for  the  truth,  let's  strive, 

Glory  will  wreath  the  brow, 
Of  those  who  in  truth's  cause, 

Make  all  that  oppose  it  bow ; 
We'll  gird  our  armor  on, 

Keep  sword  and  helmet  bright, 
And  let  the  watchword  be, 

Truth,  union,  freedom,  right. 
Chorus. — Strive  for  the  truth,   friends,  strive, 

Victory  will  crown  the  brow, 
Of  those  who  in  truth's  cause, 
Make  all  that  oppose  it  bow. 

On  for  the  prize,  right  on, 

Tho'  'tis  o'er  hostile  ground, 
Tho'  foes  are  great  and  strong, 

And  dangers  thick  abound  ; 
We'll  on,  forever  on, 

There's  no  such  word  as  fail. 
The  Priesthood's  mighty  law, 

Will  o'er  earth  as  heav'n  prevail.  —  Chorus. 
Strive  to  be  one,  let's  strive, 

To  us  the  God  of  heaven, 
Has  in  these  Latter-days, 

The  United  Order  given  ; 
And  young  as  well  as  old, 

The  poor,  the  weak,   the  strong, 
Can  aid  the  impulse  given. 

And  roll  the  work  along. 
Chorus. — The  young  as  well  as  old, 

The  poor,  the  weak,  the  strong, 

Can  aid  the  impulse  given, 
And  roll  the  work  along. 


144  POEMS. 


CONSOLATION. 

Prompted   when  in  deep  sorrow    on  account  of  my 
daughter. 


Thou  troubled  one,  dismiss  thy  care, 
Look  to  thy  God  by  humble  prayer, 
Commit  thy  daughter  to  His  love, 
Who  listens  from  His  throne  above. 

Though  thou  hast  been  by  care  oppressed, 
Cast  it  on  Him,  He'll  give  thee  rest, 
For  all  who  come  with  heart  sincere, 
Our  Father,  God,  will  ever  hear. 

Your  child  He'll  bless  and  always  guide, 
Whenever  danger  may  betide, 
Her  life  He  will  in  safety  keep, 
For  Israel's  God  will  never  sleep. 

Soon  thou  shalt  see  and  shalt  rejoice, 
And  know  it  is  the  spirit's  voice, 
That  bids  thee  every  care  resign, 
And  trust  the  hand  that  is  divine. 

Thy  husband,  too,  shall  joy  in  me, 
And  clearer  shall  his  vision  be ; 
Though  often  called  to  bear  the  rod, 
He  shall  rejoice  in  me,  his  God. 

Uphold  thy  husband,  comfort  him, 
Should  e'er  his  faith  grow  cold  or  dim, 
For  thou  wast  given  him  for  joy, 
That  nothing  ever  can  destroy. 

Together  from  your  native  land, 
You've  gathered  with  my  chosen  band, 
A  work  to  do,  a  place  to  fill, 
To  honor  me  and  do  my  will. 


RETURNING  MISSIONARIES.  145 


And  though  the  darkness  gather  round, 
'Till  scarce  a  ray  of  light  is  found, 
I'll  never  leave  thee,  nor  forsake, 
But  to  my  glory,  thee  I'll  take. 

Thy  children,  too,  thy  head  shall  crown, 
With  endless  glory  and  renown  ; 
Then  fear  thee  not,    but  ever  trust, 
And  know  thy  God  is  wise  and  just'. 


RETURNING  MISSIONARIES. 

A  welcome  to  Elders  Thos.  C.  Mar  tell  and  Thos.  D. 

Evans — Superintendents  of  Sabbath  School — on 

their  return  from  a  mission  to   Wales. 


Welcome,  brethren  !  glad  we  welcome 
You  to  home  and  friends  again, 

And  we  feel  that  joy  at  meeting, 
Compensates  for  parting  pain. 

Welcome,  brethren  !  we  have  missed  you 
From  your  home  and  duties  here, 

While  you  went  to  fill  your  mission 
In  a  distant  land  and  sphere. 

Welcome,  brethren  !  smiling  nature 
Seems  to  welcome  you  again, 

With  her  wealth  of  summer  beauty, 
With  her  fruits  and  flowers  and  grain. 

Welcome,  brethren  !  while  we  render, 
Grateful  thanks  to  Him  who  holds 

Within  his  hand  the  winds  and  waves, 
And  for  you  their  power  controls. 


146  POEMS. 


Welcome,  brethren  !  you  are  welcome 

To  the  place  you  used  to  fill 
In  our  sabbath  school,  and  welcome 

To  each  child's  affection  still. 

Welcome,  brethren  !  though  forth  you  went 
Weeping,  bearing  precious  seeds, 

You  have  come  with  sheaves  of  gladness 
As'the  Bible's  promise  reads. 

Welcome,  brethren  !   to  these  Valleys, 
All  the  good  will  welcome  you, 

May  you  hear  the  Master's  plaudit. 
Well  done,  servants  tried  and  true ! 


MEMORY   OF   CHILDHOOD. 


"  Maria  r)  and  I,  were  busy  one  day, 
Clearing  a  lot  of  old  rubbish  away 
From  a  nook  in  the  brickyard,  whence  that  morn, 
The  last  load  of  bricks  from  that  place  was  diawn. 
Now  we,  happy  girls,  had  thought  of  a  plan, 
And  in  childish  glee  to  my  mother  ran  ; 
A  garden  we'd  make  and  plant  it  with  care, 
And  sweet  little  flowers  soon  should  grow  there. 
My  kind  mother  feared  our  pleasure  to  chill, 
Yet  hinted,  the  spot  might  be  needed  still. 
But  we  were  so  full  of  our  pleasant  scheme, 
That  reason  or  sense  must  not  spoil  the  dream ; 
So  we  dug  up  the  ground  with  care  and  toil, 
And  prepared  for  the  flowers  the  nice  fresh  soil. 
We  watered  and  tended  our  garden  well, 
How  delighted  we  were,  no  words  could  tell. 
But  alas  for  our  joys,  the  kiln  was  burned, 
And  out  of  it  soon  the  bricks  must  be  turned. 


MEMORY  OF  CHILDHOOD.  147 


One  morning,  the  master  was  looking 'round, 

'Tvvas  then  the  trim  little  garden  he  found. 

He  asked  the  steward,  "by  whom  was  this  done?" 

And  was  told,  "  by  the  girls  in  innocent  fun.  " 

Mr.  Sharman,  who'd  ever  to  us  been  kind, 

To  faults  and  follies  persistently  blind; 

Had  good  cause  to  fear  some  censure  just  then 

From  his  stern  employer,  Mr.  George  Fenn, 

Who  looked  at  the  flowers  so  .bright  and  sweet, 

At  the  fence  we'd  made  so  pretty  and  neat ; 

Their  silent  appeal  had  well  done  its  part, 

Touched  a  tender  chord  in  the  proud  man's  heart. 

As  he  gazed,  his  face  wore  a  softer  look; 

At  length  to  the  steward  again  he  spoke, 

"  'Tis  a  pity  the  children  put  them  here, 

"  For  the  place  we  cannot  possibly  spare.  " 

Then  with  urbanity  and  feeling  rare, 

He  selected  a  spot  with  thoughtful  care. 

Maria  and  I  were  hid  in  a  shed 

From  which  we  could  hear  whatever  was  said  ; 

Just  imagine  our  joy.  'twas  past  belief, 

A  moment  before,  we  were  bowed  with  grief. 

We  were  land  holders  now,  richer,  I  ween, 

Than  some  worth  thousands  of  acres  have  been  ; 

Our  new  garden  was  large,  while  we  were  small, 

Hence  not  equal  to  the  task  of  digging  it  all. 

But  the  "brick  boys"  helped  with  strong  hand  and 

arm, 

And  the  work  was  done  as  if  by  a  charm  ; 
Those  kind  hearted  boys  were  happy  as  we, 
They  worked  and  whistled  in  boyish  glee, 
Then  put  in  a  claim,  we  did  not  contest, 
For  a  flower  to  put  in  their  Sunday  vest. 
There  early  in  spring  bright  flowers  were  seen, 
Peeping  forth  from  out  their  setting  of  green. 
The  snowdrop,  crocus  and  proud  daffodil, 
With  daisy,  cowslip  and  dainty  jonquill, 


148  POEMS. 


The  pure  queen  of  May,  and  famed  London  pride, 
With  blue  bells  and  pinks,   bloomed  here  side  by 

side; 

In  summer-time  too,  there  was  plenty  of  room. 
For  roses  and  lilies  to  give  sweet  perfume. 
We  planted  medicinal  herbs  for  tea, 
For  dolls,  and  kittens  might  get  sick  you  see, 
A  school-mate  was  doctor,  and  sexton  beside, 
To  'tend  the  sick,  and  inter  if  they  died, 
Then,  as  we  still  had  a  corner  to  spare, 
We  thought  'twould  be  best  to  lay  out  a  square  ; 
Soon  little  hillocks  and  stones  marked  each  spot 
Where  our  pets  were  buried,  but  ne'er  forgot. 
Those  funerals,  ah,  me  !  were  mimic  affairs, 
The  actors  then  knew  no  sorrow  or  cares, 
No  matter,  then,  what  the  future  would  be, 
The  present  at  least  was  happy  and  free; 
But  time  has  been  busy,  long  years  since  then, 
Those  children  have  grown  to  women  and  men, 
Each  acting  their  part  on  life's  busy  stage 
Writing  their  names  on  futurity's  page. 


DECEMBER  25^. 

Written  for  the   Young  Ladies  Mutual  Improvement 
Association. 


All  Christian  nations  keep  this  day, 

To  celebrate  the  birth 
Of  Jesus  Christ,  who  came  to  pay 

Our  ransom  on  this  earth. 

The  history  of  his  advent, 

By  sacred  writers  told, 
Who  chronicled  the  great  event, 

By  prophets  long  foretold, 


DECEMBER    25'1'H, 


Is  full  of  interest,  and  is  read 

In  every  tongue  and  clime  ; 
Sages  and  poets  wrote  and  sang, 

Upon  the  theme  sublime. 

And  I  would  tune  my  humble  lyre, 

And  in  my  lowly  way, 
Would  tell  the  thoughts  my  heart  inspire 

In  prospect  of  this  day. 

An  angel  came  from  heaven's  throne, 

The  joyful  news  to  bring 
To  Bethle'm's  shepherds,   that  "to-day 

"Is  born  a  Saviour  king." 

Then  suddenly  a  multitude 

Of  holy  angels  came, 
And  in  seraphic  measure  sang, 

Praise  to  our  Father's  name. 

"Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 

And  to  the  earth  be  peace, 
For  unto  us  is  born  the  Christ, 

Whose  reign  will  never  cease." 

The  shepherds  who  these  tidings  heard, 

Hastened  to  Bethlehem, 
And  there  the  holy  babe  was  found 
As  it  was  told  to  them. 

Wise  men  from  Eastern  lands  afar, 

Came  with  an  offering  ; 
And  guided  thither  by  a  star, 

They  found  the  infant  king. 

And  worshipped  the  holy  child, 

While  at  his  feet  they  laid 
Their  gifts  ;  (gold,  frankincense  and  myrrh,) 

Which  mystic  homage  paid. 


POEMS. 


Gold  signified  him  to  be  king  ; 

Myrrh,  that  he  was  to  die; 
The  incense  showed  him  to  be  God, 

Son  of  the  Lord  Most  High. 

He  died  a  sacrifice  for  sin, 

And  yielded  up  his  breath, 
To  remove  the  curse  of  Adam's  guilt 

By  his  vicarious  death. 

The  Saviour's  birth,  his  life  and  death, 
Were  pure  and  free  from  blame, 

And  we,  his  followers,  should  strive 
To  make  our  lives  the  same. 

Methinks,  dear  sisters,  we  shall  best 

Keep  Christmas  holiday, 
If  love  to  God  and  all  mankind 

Within  our  hearts  bear  sway. 


DEPARTING  MISSIONARIES. 

Written  by  request,  for  a  surprise  party  given  to  five 
missionaries,  pi  ei'ious  to  their  departure  to  Eng- 
land, Scotland  and   Iceland. 


Our  brethren  have  been  called  upon,  to  distant  lands 

to  go, 
And  to  those  that  dwell   in   darkness,   the  Gospel 

light  to  show, 
To  warn  the  people  of  their  doom,   when  Babylon 

shall  fall, 
And  in  its  sure  destruction,   will  engulf  the  wicked 

all, 
That  the  poor  within   those  nations,  downtrodden 

and  oppressed 


DEPARTING    MISSIONARIES.  151 

. 

May  hear  and  gather  to  this  land,  above  all  others 
blest, 

That  the  dead  may  be  remembered,  who  sleep  with- 
in the  grave, 

That  we  for  them  may  do  a  work  which  will  exalt 
and  save. 

The  elders  have  responded  to  this  most  important 
call, 

Are  willing  to  forsake  their  homes,  their  wives  and 
children  all, 

To  break  association's  ties,  from  friends  and  kindred 
part, 

And  to  leave  the  land  of  Zion,  so  dear  to  each  true 
heart. 

They  go  with  love  and  sympathy,  accompanied  by 
prayer, 

That  God,  even  Israel's  God,  may  make  their  lives 
His  care. 

Ward  off  every  threatened  ill,  either  by  land  or  sea, 

And  in  each  strait  or  need  may  then  His  tender 
mercy  see. 

Oh,  may  their  faith  in  God  be  strong,  whatever  may 
betide, 

And  firmly  trust  that,  day  by  day,  He  will  for  them 
provide. 

This  brings  to  mind  a  circumstance  which  I  remem- 
ber well, 

Having  heard  a  traveling  Elder,  his  own  experience 
tell. 

He  was  just  then  laboring  in  the  Norwich  Confer- 
ence, 

And  found  himself  at  nightfall,  without  either  food 
or  pence, 

Hungry,  shelterless,  cold  and  lone,  he  knew  not 
where  to  go, 

No  saints  lived  near,  to  whom  to  turn  ;  what  now 
was  he  to  do  ? 


Come  let  us  sing  a  gladsome  song, 

To  our  Redeemer's  praise, 
For  all  the  blessings  we  receive 

In  these  great  Latter-days. 

Chorus. — We'll   come,    we'll    come,  we'll    come   to 

Sunday-school, 
We'll  try,  we'll  try  to  practice  every   rule. 

The  children  in  these  happy  vales, 

Above  all  others  blest, 
Have  cause  to  praise  the  Lord  above, 

And  try  to  serve  him  best. — Chorus. 


152  POEMS. 


Soon   thinking  of  "  Our    Father, "   to  Heaven    he 
raised  his  eyes, 

Breathing  meanwhile  a  fervent  prayer,  look'd  up- 
wards to  the  skies, 

"Oh!  give  me  sixpence,    Lord,   I   must  have  six- 
pence," again  he  said  ; 

"  Sixpence  is  all  I  ask,  just  to  procure  me  food  and 
bed.'* 

Then  looking  down,  with  joy  he  saw,  a  silver  six- 
pence lay, 
;    So  bright  and  new  it  might  have  come  fresh  from  the 

mint  that  day. 

I    He  picked   the  shining  treasure  up,   glowing  with 
gratitude, 

His  wants  supplied,  with  joy  next  day,   his  journey 
he  pursued. 

I  _^~_ 

A  SONG  OF  PRAISE. 
Written  for  the  Spanish  Fork  Sunday  Scliool. 

Tune — Just  Starting  out.     Charm — page  58. 


A  HAPPY   NEW    YEAR.  153 


We  thank  Him  for  our  teachers  kind, 

For  good  instruction  given, 
For  Gospel  light,  to  guide  us  here, 

And  lead  us  back  to  heaven. —  Chorus. 

Of  all  that  dwell  upon  the  earth, 

None  are  so  blest  and  free, 
And  gratitude  inclines  our  hearts, 

Our  Father,  God,  to  thee. — Chorus. 

From  every  soul,  like  incense  pure, 

Our  songs  of  joy  shall  rise, 
Till  angels  catch  the  glad  refrain 

And  bear  it  to  the  skies. — Chorus. 


A  HAPPY  NEW  YEAR. 

Inscribed  to  the  brothers   William,    Thomas,  James, 
John,  Alexander  and  Charles  O.  Robertson,  and 
read  at  a  social  reunion  given  in  commemora- 
tion of  the  twentieth  anniversary  of  their 
leaving  Scotland  to  gather  to  Zion, 
January    ist,  1870. 


A  happy  new  year  to  all  that  are  here, 

And  many  more  years  to  enjoy; 
Health,  happiness,  peace,  prosperity  too, 

And  pleasure  without  alloy. 

New  Year  is  a  time  for  all  to  be  glad, 
Who've  wisely  disposed  of  the  old, 

And  can  turn  its  pages  over  and  know 
That  no  stain  disgraces  its  fold. 

New  Year's  a  time  to  look  forward  with  hope, 
And  resolve  the  future  shall  see 


154  POEMS. 


Us  employed  to  the  best  of  our  power, 
And  higher  our  motto  should  be. 

But  to  some  here  to-day,  this  New  Year  brings 
Recollections  twenty  years  back  ; 

Recalling  memories  of  long  ago, 

As  they  glance  o'er  life's  beaten  track. 

'Tis  now  twenty  years  since  last  they  beheld, 

The  hills  of  old  Scotia's  land, 
And  bade  adieu  to  the  place  of  their  birth, 

To  dwell  on  Columbia's  strand. 

While  gratefully  now  they  review  the  past, 
And  acknowledge  the  hand  of  God, 

Who  has  given  to  them  a  name  and  place 
On  Zion's  thrice  favored  sod. 

More  truly  honored  are  they,  and  their  names 
On  posterity's  stream  shall  descend, 

When  the  mighty  ones  of  earth  are  forgot, 
And  their  line  ignobly  shall  end. 

Some  sorrow  may  sadden  their  joy  to  think 
Of  their  mother,  left  by  the  way, 

Whose  dust  reposes,  as  laid  by  her  sons, 
On  the  heights  of  remote  Iowa. 

And  who  shall  say  how  her  spirit  has  watched 

O'er  the  sons  she  had  to  resign  ; 
Or  how  her  influence  'round  them  has  been, 

To  elevate,  bless  and  refine  ? 

And  now  we  will  wish,  that  the  coming  years, 
May  find  all  the  brothers  still  true 

To  the  faith  they  hold,  to  the  God  they  serve, 
And  favored  and  prosperous  too. 


THINK  OF  THY  MOTHER. 


THINK  OF  THY  MOTHER. 

Addressed  to  the  children  of  Mrs.    Gwyn  Morgan 

Lewis,  who  gathered  to  this  land  for  the  Gospel's 

sake,  having  left  all  her  kindred. 


'  and 


Think  of  thy  mother,  now  aged,  and  far 
^  From  the  land  that  has  given  her  birth, 
Called  thence  by  a  power  she  could  not  resist, 
To  dwell  on  this  part  of  the  earth. 

Think  of  thy  mother,  for  often  and  fond, 
She  thinks  of  the  sons  she  has  left, 

And  sadly  she  yearns  for  their  care  and  love, 
Of  which  she  has  long  been  bereft. 

Not  one  son  or  daughter  to  cheer  her  path, 
As  she  treads  the  down  hill  of  life, 

Or  help  her  to  bear  the  burden  or  care, 
With  which  the  journey  is  rife. 

She  is  not  unhappy,  here  she  has  found 
Friends  who  are  loving  and  kind; 

She  trusts  in  her  God,  who  will  not  forsake  ; 
Thus  calm  and  serene  is  her  mind. 

Still  she  prays  that  her  children,  too,  may  see 

This  marvelous  Latter-day  work, 
That  can  gather  from  ev'ry  land  and  unite 

In  one  fold,  the  "  Christian  and  Turk.  " 

This  wonderful  work  predicted  so  long, 
God's  kingdom  set  up  on  the  earth, 

He  calls  by  His  spirit,  the  honest  of  heart, 
Irrespective  of  country  or  birth. 


156  POEMS. 


One  of  a  family,  city  or  town. 

May  hear  the  still  voice  and  obey, 
And  the  sacrifice  they're  called  on  to  make 

God  is  bound  by  His  word  to  repay. 

I  know  your  good  mother,  and  love  her  much, 
Our  hearts  have  felt  sympathy's  bond, 

Like  her  I  have  left  my  country  and  kin, 
Severed  ties  most  sacred  and  fond. 

Through  years  of  sickness,  her  visits  to  me 
Have  been  welcome  as  day's  gladsome  light, 

Her  words  of  comfort  have  often  beguiled 
Affliction's  long  wearisome  night. 

I've  learned  to  call  her  the  tender est  name, 

And  often  and  earnestly  pray, 
That  her  precious  life  may  yet  be  prolonged, 

And  death  may  be  still  far  away. 


ON  THE  BIRTH  OF  OUR  GRANDSON, 

SAMUEL  HOLLINGSWORTH  CORNABY. 

Spanish  Fork,  Oct.  19,  1878. 


Father,  Mother,  in  the  heaven 

Thou  hast  sent  our  sweet  baby  here  ; 

We  thank  thee  for  the  treasure  given 
And  will  prize  the  gift  most  dear. 

May  our  little  darling  grow, 
Blest  of  Thee  from  day  to  day ; 

And  fill  his  mission  here  below, 
Nor  ever  from  Thy  precepts  stray. 

Bless  his  parents  with  the  wisdom 
And  the  patience  which  they  need, 


RESPONSE  TO    MRS.   R- 


That  their  offspring  may  become 
Mighty  for  truth  in  word  and  deed. 

Baby,  darling,  take  the  welcome 

Of  thy  parents'  loving  heart, 
Welcome  to  thy  earthly  home 

Weak  and  helpless  though  thou  art. 

Thy  brother  Willie,  baby  still, 

In  his  guileless  joy  and  glee, 
Hugs  and  kiss  with  right  good  will 

Does  his  best  to  welcome  thee. 

Thy  uncles,  aunts,  and  cousins  join 
To  bid  t'hee  kindly  welcome  here, 

And  pray  that  love  and  power  divine, 

May  guide  thee  through  this  world  of  care. 

Grandparents'  prayers,  and  wishes  blend, 
That  blessings  of  the  heavens  and  earth, 

May  through  life's  changing  scenes  attend 
Their  grandson  Samuel  Hollingsworth. 


RESPONSE  TO  MRS.  R- 


Thanks  for  your  lines,  they  call  me  back  to  girl- 
hood's happy  days, 

Ere  yet  to  me  life's  path  had  known,  aught  but  the 
sun's  bright  rays, 

When  love  and  hope  and  health  for  me  their  treasures 
spread  around, 

When  roses  bloomed  along  my  path,  and  ne'er  a 
thorn  was  found. 

My  native  land,  my  parents  dear,  sisters  who  loved 
so  true, 

And  friends  whose  gentle  tenderness  I  now  remem- 
ber too; 


158  POEMS. 


My  books,  my  studies,  and  old  scenes,  came  as  by 

magic  spell 
Of  some  fond  vision  of  the  past,  remembered  now 

so  well. 
I  draw  the  contrast ;  tho'  not  sad  that  contrast  seems 

to  me, 
For  brighter  still,  and  happier  far,  life  now  appears 

to  be. 
Thus  far  life's  journey  I  have  trod,  with  all  its  joys 

and  care, 
And   through  each  chequered  changing  scene   my 

anchor  has  been  prayer. 
A  firm  unwavering  trust  in  God,  my  Father  and  my 

friend, 
Has  led  me  on  through  every  stage,  and  will  till  life 

shall  end. 
I  know  that  He  who  sought  me  out,  when  yet  I  knew 

Him  not, 
Will  never  leave  me,  nor  forsake,  tho'  humble  be  my 

lot. 


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